New York was frightened, and the newspapers as they appeared did not
allay that fear. The conservative _Tribunal_ ran a scare head: HAS
THE GLACIAL AGE COME AGAIN? and printed underneath a résumé of the
phenomena up to the time of going to press--which did not include the
appearance of the black flyer--with an interview from a prominent
scientist. An enterprising reporter had routed the worthy gentleman out
of bed and rushed him to the scene of the expanding ice cake in a fast
motor boat, taking down in shorthand his comments on the matter. The
scientist had been much puzzled, but spoke at length nevertheless. He
said in part:
Has the glacial age come again? I do not know. I can only say that
we have no certain knowledge of the original cause of the glacial
period and we cannot say definitely that it did not begin in
precisely this fashion. We have volcanos which radiate incredible
quantities of heat to the country surrounding them. No phenomenon
like this has occurred before, but it may be that some unknown
cause may bring to the surface a condition the antithesis of a
volcano, which, instead of radiating heat, will bring on local
glacierlike conditions. One might go farther and suggest that the
earth may alternate between periods of volcanic activity, during
which it is warm and conditions are favorable for habitation and
growth, and periods of this new antivolcanic activity during which
frigidity is normal, and mankind may be forced to take refuge in
the tropic zones. Still, I cannot say definitely.
The eminent scientist went on for two full columns, during which he
refused to say anything definite, but suggested so many alarming
possibilities that every one who read the _Tribunal_ was thrown into
a state of mind not far from panic. He offered no explanation of the
plume of steam.
When the appearance of the black flyer became known in the newspaper
offices, city editors threw up their hands. The less conservative
printed the wildest explanations. They put forth a virulent-organism
theory, which, it must be admitted, was no farther from the truth
than most of the others. The story began with an interview with the
boatswain in charge of the boat crew from the destroyer:
We were ordered to take the men off the ice and to take especial
care not to be nipped ourselves. We rowed carefully toward the edge
of the ice cake, with the light of the searchlights to guide us. We
would see where the floe began, when the waves dropped back from
it. I've been in Northern seas, but I never saw anything like that.
The edge of the ice wasn't smooth and worn away by the waves. It
was rough with frost crystals that reached out like fingers
grabbing at the things near by. When we came close to the edge some
of the men in my boat were scared, and I don't blame them. I'd
dipped my hand overboard and the water was warm--and twenty feet
away there was that mass of ice! We backed up to the ice cake and
took off the men. I was looking over the side of the life boat, and
saw those long crystals forming and growing while I watched. They
were huge, from two feet long for the largest to three or four
inches for the smallest. They reached out and reached out terribly.
The stern of the boat was touching the ice, and I saw them reaching
for the hull like the tentacles of an octopus. They fastened on and
began to grow thicker. We took oars and smashed them, feeling
frightened as one is frightened in a nightmare. As fast as we broke
them they formed again, and the men on the ice seemed to be rotten
slow getting into the boat, though I don't doubt but they were
hurrying all they knew how. When they were all aboard we had to
work like mad to get clear.
The paper went on to expound its own idea of what had happened:
The sinister growth of the ice crystals is significant There has
always been notice of and comment upon the striking similarity
between the growth of crystals and the growth of plants. Until now
all scientific text-books have said that crystals could only grow
in a supersaturate solution of their own substance, and claimed
that they were not organic growths--in the sense of growths caused
by an intelligence within the crystal. Is it not possible that the
scientists have been wrong? Is it not possible that crystals are
growths in the same way that plants are growths? Granting that, what
is to keep a scientist from isolating and cultivating the crystal
embryo? We have done that with germs, and with the life germs in
eggs and plants. We can even use a process of parthenogenesis and
create monsters from the unfertilized eggs of frogs and sea urchins.
Why could not this scientist experiment until the life germ of the
ice crystal could be developed and enlarged? Why could not this
development continue until the germ could not only create its
crystals under the most favorable conditions of temperature, but
_at the normal temperature of water_? At the Harvard laboratories
water has been, kept liquid far below its normal freezing-point,
and under tremendous pressure has been found to remain ice at a
temperature of one hundred degrees Fahrenheit! Can we doubt that
this appearance of ice at this extraordinary season is due to the
malicious activities of a foreign government, envious of our
magnificent merchant marine and commerce?
The explanation was ingenious, but though the scientific facts quoted
were quite correct the inference was hardly justifiable. Water can
and does reach a temperature several degrees below 32° Fahrenheit
without solidifying--as may be proved by putting a glass of water in
a cold room in winter--but the slightest jar causes the instantaneous
formation of ice crystals, and in a little while the whole mass is
solid. The fact of "hot" ice must also be admitted, but it requires
a pressure of rather more than fifty tons to the square inch, and is
rarely attempted.
This paper also was forced to admit as inexplicable the plume of steam
which rose from a thousand to fifteen hundred feet into the air. In
any event, the claim that a certain unfriendly foreign government
was trying to ruin the commerce of the United States was effectively
squashed by cablegrams from Gibraltar, Folkestone, and Yokohama. Three
great icebergs had formed in the Straits of Gibraltar and extended
until they joined, when a solid mass of ice made a bridge that once
more rejoined the continents of Africa and Europe, from Ceuta to the
Rock. The plumes of steam were visible here, too. Three mighty columns
of white mist rose at equal distances across the gap.
Folkestone harbor was a mass of ice. A great transatlantic liner
had been caught in the expanding berg, and the huge hull had been
crushed like so much cardboard. The passengers and crew had escaped
across the ice. The great steam plume made a wonderful sight for miles
around. Yokohama was similarly visited. Three battleships of the
Japanese fleet were frozen in and their hulls cracked and broken. The
plume of steam--nearly two thousand feet high--had aroused the latent
superstition of the Japanese and was being exorcised in every Shinto
temple in the kingdom.
The panic which was engendered by the mysteries of the icebergs and
the unknown motives of the men so obviously responsible for their
appearance grew in intensity. New York was in a blue funk. The police
felt the tremor that means that at any moment the crowds thronging the
streets might break and from sheer panic become uncontrollable. Every
patrolman wore a worried frown and worked like mad to keep the crowds
moving, moving always. The strain was becoming greater, however, and
troops were being hastily moved into the city when an announcement was
made by the British foreign office:
It has been decided to make public a communication received at the
foreign office bearing on the blocking of Folkestone harbor, the
Straits of Gibraltar, Yokohama, and New York. The communication is
dated from "The Dictatorial Residence," and reads as follows:
"TO THE PREMIER OF GREAT BRITAIN: You are informed that the
blocking of Folkestone harbor, as well as that of the Straits of
Gibraltar, New York, and Yokohama, is evidence of my intention and
power to assume control of the governments of the world as dictator.
Present administrations and systems of government will continue in
power under my direction and subject to my commands. The machinery
of the League of Nations is to be used to enforce my decrees. You
will readily understand that the same means I used to block the
harbors and straits now frozen over can be extended indefinitely.
Rivers can be made to cease to flow, lakes to irrigate, and all
commerce and agriculture forced to suspend its activity. This will
be done, if it is made necessary by the refusal of the governments
of the world to accede to my demands. Given under my hand at the
dictatorial residence,
"(Signed) WLADISLAW VARRHUS."
The foreign office offers this communication to allay the fears of
the public that a new glacial period may be imminent, but at the
same time it wishes to assure the British people that the demands
of the writer are not taken seriously. It is evident that the maker
of such absurd demands is insane, and though he may be able to
cause perhaps serious inconvenience to commerce, a means of
nullifying his invention will be forthcoming in a short while.
British scientists are studying the Folkestone phenomena and are
confident of a prompt solution of the problem.
Though it might have been expected that such an announcement as that
of the intention of an unknown and probably insane man to make himself
ruler of the world would have caused even greater panic, the reverse
was actually the case. The motive behind the creation of the icebergs
was made so clear that the world settled back with a sort of sporting
interest to see what would happen. It had not long to wait.
A hint came by some underground channel that Professor Hawkins
had offered a suggestion to the American government that had been
accepted as a basis for experiment. A reporter went post-haste to the
professor's home. He was admitted, but the professor would not see him
at the moment. The reporter sat down patiently to wait. A motor car
drove up to the house and a man in soldier's uniform stepped out. The
reporter gave a whistle. A second car discharged a quietly dressed man
in civilian clothes attended by two other army officers. The reporter
stared. He recognized the men. Most people on two continents would
have recognized them. They passed through the house to the professor's
laboratory at the rear. A long time passed. The reporter fidgeted
nervously. Some conference of colossal importance was taking place
back there in the laboratory.
It was an hour later that the visitors left. With them went a young man
the reporter had not seen before. The professor came slowly into the
room and smiled apologetically.
"I am very sorry to have kept you waiting, but it was necessary. I
think that in about two hours I will have some news for you. In the
meantime there is nothing more to say."
"Can you tell me what really happened? How did this Varrhus make the
berg?"
"It's the simplest thing in the world," said the professor with a
smile. "I've managed to duplicate it on a small scale back in my
laboratory. Suppose you come back there and I'll show you."
A girl appeared in the doorway with a worried frown on her face.
"Father, has Teddy gone?"
"Yes. We'll hear in about two hours." The professor turned to the
reporter with instinctive courtesy. "This is my daughter, Evelyn."
The girl shook hands.
"You want to know about the iceberg, too? Teddy has gone to break it up
now."
"To try to break it up," corrected the professor with a smile. "'Teddy'
is my assistant."
"But how?" insisted the reporter. "You seem to be so confident, and
every one else does nothing but guess."
"I'll show you quite clearly," the professor said gently, "if you'll
come back to the laboratory."
They moved toward the rear of the house. A hullabaloo of whistles broke
out in the harbor. The girl turned toward the professor.
"Teddy already?"
The professor frowned.
"He hasn't had time." He went to a window and looked out, inspecting
the sky keenly. A slender black splinter hung suspended in the air.
The professor flung open the window, and a musical humming filled the
room. As they watched a smoking object detached itself from the black
flyer and fell downward.
"That must be Varrhus," said the professor.
A winged flyer with the insignia of the American aviation corps painted
on the under surface of its wings darted into their field of vision.
Black smoke trailed behind it as it shot toward the sinister black
craft. There was an instant's pause, and then little puffs of white
mist appeared before the propeller of the aëroplane.
"He's firing his machine gun!" said the reporter excitedly.
As he spoke the black flyer dropped like a stone, and the American
plane shot above it. Almost instantly the black flyer checked in
mid-air and rose vertically with amazing speed. The American plane
drove on for a second, and then wavered. It began to climb, stalled,
and dropped toward the earth in a series of side slips and maple-leaf
turns. It came down erratically, crazily.
"Killed!" said the professor with compressed lips.
His daughter uttered a cry:
"And Varrhus is getting away!"
The black flyer had become but the merest speck. It had attained an
almost unbelievable height. Now it deliberately swung around and headed
off toward the northeast with its same incredible speed.