THE EYE OF DOOM
"Why, Ed! With this thing we can rock the city--bring death--"
"Death! Yes. But, Alan--"
"Death to them all! To Turber! If we can catch his aero before he can
get to it we can kill them all!"
"But, Alan!" I was trying to say. "What about Nanette?"
He echoed: "Nanette?" Here was a tangible death for her in this
weapon Lea had brought. Death for Nanette as well as destruction of
the Turberites which was being planned here now. We would see it; we,
indeed, might very well be chosen to accomplish it. And we stared
wordlessly at each other and knew that it was inevitable.
It was about 1 A.M. of the night of June 13-14, 2445 A.D. Momentous
night of history! Culmination of the Battle of Great New York! We sat,
Alan and I, in a corner of one of the rooms of the Hudson Machine
Shops, watching Lea with the corps of engineers who had been summoned
to assemble her weapon.
These electronic experts recognized it; not in its working form,
but in its principle. An electronic beam, with the harmless aspect
of a spreading searchlight ray. Like most scientific devices of
importance, its practical working mechanism was complicated, with a
basic scientific principle of the utmost simplicity. It carried--this
harmless-looking beam of light--vibrations both etheric and
atmospheric. They were communicable--as are all vibrations.
Harmless of aspect, this bronzed projector! I would have said, with a
casual glance, that it was a searchlight of my own time. I have seen
many like it. But it had a focussing grid of wires across its face
instead of a lens. Wires of a metal no one could name. A focussing
and firing mechanism; and insulated wires leading to a cylindrical
tank, long as a man--the battery, in which was stored some unnamable
electronic force.
Alan and I examined the apparatus as Lea showed how it should be
assembled. Within the projector was an elaborate mechanism of tiny
disks and thin metallic tongues, which in operation would whirl
and vibrate. There were condensing coils; and bulbs of vacuum with
laceworks of filament--lights to cast the beam. I saw that the light
would pass through an intricate magnifying system of prisms--condensed
finally to a focal point where a whirling mirror-disk cast it loose
through the projecting grid of wires.
* * * * *
Tremendous latent energy in this harmless-looking white light! A
cold light--with a latent power diabolic. Falling upon a distant
object--touching anything of material substance--the energy of its
vibrations was loosed.
"If that touches a building," Alan exclaimed, "this building, for
instance--why, these walls in a moment would be trembling--quivering,
shaking until presently they would fall--"
The principle was known even in my own age. This cold, white light,
with its inconceivably rapid vibrations, would in a moment set up
similar vibrations in anything it rested upon! Nothing of material
substance could for more than a moment hold its form under the lash
of such inconceivable trembling! With this beam we could rock the
city--smash through its roof--bring death to every living thing upon
which we could get the light!
The whole apparatus was carefully insulated. It would not operate here
because of the world aerial power. The insulation was to protect it now.
It could not be operated with this insulation. If we removed it, our
power would instantly destroy the filaments and coils, and in a moment
or two detonate the battery. The world-power would have to be shut off
during its operation.
There had been a consultation of the world governments fifteen minutes
ago when in code our city government had asked that the world power
be discontinued. We now had the decision. At the Trinight Hour--three
hours after Midnight this night--the huge Scotland plant would go dead
for sixty minutes. No more time than that could be given us. Most of
the air-liners--and all the civic lighting and ventilating and traffic
systems--had emergency batteries for sixty minutes. Beyond that limit
the whole world would go into disaster.
Sixty minutes, beginning two hours from now! It gave plenty of time
to assemble the apparatus and mount it in a swift ship. Lea was to be
beside the man who would be chosen to control the projector.
* * * * *
Now Alan and I sat whispering, for upon us had come the realization
that this would mean Nanette's death.
I said: "But Nanette--this is death for Nanette!"
"Edward!"
An audible answer! A microscopic aerial voice here in the workshop
room-corner! Alan heard it also. And it came again:
"Edward!"
Hushed accents! Imperative! Vehement! Nanette's voice!
"Edward, don't move! Don't look surprised! I know you're there--you and
Alan--I've heard you talking."
Tiny voice, materializing from the air! Alan murmured something, but I
gripped him. We sat tense.
It came again.
"Don't show surprise! It may be that they have an image of you at some
other receiver! I'm alone here now--just for this moment."
I said softly: "Shall I speak? This is Ed--can you hear me?"
"Yes, Edward. They've been listening--Jonas was in here, at an aerial,
eavesdropping on you. They've lifted their barrage for this one finder.
Located you--they've been listening to the men there with you--Lea's
weapon."
Aerial eavesdropping! Turber was aware of our plans!
Nanette's voice added:
"Turber is off somewhere, but Jonas thinks he can locate him. I wanted
you to know it. I think Turber may take us in the aero and go."
I exclaimed: "Yes, Nanette! Go!"
Alan tried to speak, but I silenced him. This at least was mine! These
few last minutes--Nanette's and mine!
"Go, Nanette!"
"Jonas wants us to go now, to escape without Turber! But he does
not know how to operate the aero. The Indian does--Bluntnose the
Indian--but he won't go now--he wants to wait for Turber. Edward,
I must talk quickly--I heard what you and Alan were saying. About
me--death--but I know that, of course.
"Tell Lea I said good-by. I can hear Jonas coming back now! You must
have your men stop talking there--or whisper very carefully! And--can
Alan hear me? Good-by, Alan, dear."
He gulped: "Oh, Nanette, little sister--"
"And--good-by. Edward--"
I stammered: "Good-by." I choked over it.
"Good-by--Edward, I--always loved you--very much--ah, so much! And I
want you to know it."
I thought: "Dear God!" I stammered: "Nanette, darling--I've always
loved you--"
"He's here! Don't speak!"
I gasped hurriedly: "Get away in the aero, Nanette!"
"Edward! No more! Good-by, dear."
We waited, but there was only silence.