CHAPTER VII.

THE ATTACKING MEDUSA.

"That sure must be a big one from the size of the cloud!" said Smith,

as he urged the tractor forward to where the huge medusa was attacking

the house.

"Ay tank we ban gone have one hal of a fight purty quick," said Ole,

loosening the lid of a case of hand grenades.

Smith stopped our tank about a hundred feet from the house. Then we all

got out and stepped behind it, using it for a breastworks. Ole tore

the lid off his case of grenades, took one out, and setting the timer,

hurled it with an expert overhand throw so it exploded just above

the top of the cloud. The sound it made was barely audible above the

terrific roaring of the giant medusa.

A group of squirming, twisting tentacles reached out at us from the

cloud mass as if in reprisal, but I burned them off with the torch.

Smith seized the shotgun and fired six charges into the portion of the

cloud where he thought the disklike body of the monster was located,

and Corporal Hansen continued his bombardment with hand grenades. But

neither seemed to have any effect on the medusa.

"If the damned thing would only get mad and chase us," shouted Smith,

"we could lure it away with the tank."

"Perhaps I can make it mad with the torch," I said, and started toward

the house.

But Smith seized my arm.

"Hold on there," he said. "Do you want to commit suicide? One jolt from

the batteries of that thing and I reckon you'll be through for keeps.

Besides, you might set the house afire."

By this time Ole had used up his box of grenades. Instead of getting

more, he dragged out the machine gun and began assembling it.

"Damn' grenades don't work so gude," he said, "but I bet you dis baby

will give it hal."

I handed the torch to Smith, and, reloading the pump gun, began a

bombardment of the upper part of the cloud. I doubt whether it had

much effect on the huge medusa, but it was all that I could do, and it

relieved my feelings somewhat, for I was badly worried. We had found

nobody about the place, and, for all we knew, Sue and her parents had

already been killed by the monster. It might merely be lingering to

absorb their bodies through its tentacles before leaving. There was

no way of communicating with them if they were alive, because of the

terrific roaring sound made by the attacking medusa.

I was reloading the gun for the third time, and Ole had just finished

assembling his machine gun, when the sound made by the monster suddenly

changed. At first I thought the professor had succeeded in burning

it, causing it to shriek, but this sound was not a shriek. It was

not exactly like a howl, but sounded more like a moan--a groaning,

unearthly sound so loud that it nearly split my eardrums.

Petrified into inactivity for a moment by this new development, the

three of us stood spellbound, watching for the creature's next move.

There was a terrific agitation which lasted for some time, accompanied

by the unearthly moaning and groaning in ever increasing crescendo.

From time to time we could see the ends of writhing tentacles

projecting beyond the periphery of the cloud mass, squirming as if the

creature were in horrible agony.

"Ay tank dot teeng ban purty damn sick," said Ole, coolly loading his

machine gun. "What say we give him some more hal?"

"Wait, Ole," I said. "Something has happened that we don't know

anything about."

* * * * *

Scarcely had I spoken ere the writhing and groaning of the monster

suddenly ceased and the cloud around it began slowly to dissolve.

Then, to my intense relief, I heard the voice of Professor Davis.

"Dick! Smith! Don't do any more shooting. The thing is dead, and we are

all safe in the house."

As the cloud dissolved it revealed a most astounding and hideous

spectacle. Sprawled over the roof, and almost completely hiding it,

was the limp, sagging body of the medusa. It lay there like an immense

slimy silver-gray pancake with frilled edges, its tentacles trailing

limply to the ground in all directions. The body was fully thirty feet

in diameter, and the tentacles were at least thirty-five feet long.

The professor opened the door of his laboratory. In his hand was a pair

of scissors. He snipped off an end of one of the tentacles which hung

in front of the door--then gingerly touched it with his fingertip. It

remained motionless. He touched another tentacle, and it did not move.

Then he pushed them all aside and leaped out, running toward us and

shouting like a schoolboy:

"Eureka! I've found it! I've found it!"

"Found what?" I asked.

"Dick, my boy," he said, "I've found a cure for this festering disease

with which Green's comet inoculated our planet. I've found a sure way

to destroy the invaders."

"How?"

"The very thing that I used in the first place to make the tentacles

relax--prussic acid," he replied. "Prussic acid or some of its

derivatives will do the trick. Come in, all of you. I must call

Washington. I'll have the boys bring the ammunition into my laboratory,

where we can prepare it for our part in the war of extermination. Here

I've been experimenting day and night, searching for the product that

would be lethal to the medusa; and, like the man who searched the world

over and then found the four-leaf clover in his own back yard, I had

but to reach out my hand and grasp it."

With his scissors the professor snipped the remaining tentacles from

before the door. Then he held it open for us to enter.

Sue and her mother were waiting there to greet us, and were as relieved

to know that I was still alive as I was to learn that they had escaped

death. They both shed tears of joy, and I must confess that, as I

kissed them, my own eyes were moist.

The professor put in his call for Washington, and the imperturbable

Wong brought tea.

"After you and Smith left," the professor told me, "I was busy in my

laboratory, when Sievers, one of the farm hands, came rushing in,

shouting that a big cloud was coming toward the house. I went out to

observe it, and one look through my binoculars convinced me that it was

a flying medusa. I told Sievers to bring the other two men into the

house at once, and that all of them should bring their rubber boots and

raincoats from their quarters.

"As swiftly as possible we closed every window and door, and started

a fire in the furnace and one in the grate in the living room. Then I

distributed rubber gloves--luckily I have a good supply on hand at all

times for laboratory work. In the meantime Sue primed and lighted the

two blowtorches for me, and we had two of the portable oxy-acetylene

outfits for use, one on the first floor and one on the second.

"It suddenly grew so dark outside that we were forced to turn on

the lights. I knew then that the monster had settled on the roof to

begin its attack. Stationing Sievers and the other two men on the

second floor, two to manage the acetylene outfit, and one to use the

blowtorch, I remained on the first floor with my wife and daughter,

Nora the cook, and Wong. Mrs. Davis and Nora stayed in the center of

the living room, Sue guarding them with a blowtorch, while Wong and I

patrolled the lower floors with the portable acetylene outfit." The

professor paused for breath.

* * * * *

"Almost immediately," he resumed, "the long, deadly tentacles began

worming themselves in around doors and windows and through keyholes.

Wong and I were busy, hurrying from one place to another and burning

them off, and I could tell from the sounds upstairs that the men

stationed there were equally busy.

"Although the roaring of the monster made it difficult for us to

distinguish what was going on outside, I faintly heard your shots

and the explosions of the grenades. Sue had turned the radio on to

top volume so I might hear the latest reports while working in my

laboratory, and it added its raucous notes to the bedlam of sounds.

"Most of the announcements had to do with the war against the medusæ,

and one of them was being made just at an instant when I was looking

into the drawing-room to see how the ladies were getting along. It

stated that a nurseryman near Plano, Illinois, had reported that a

number of stalk medusæ which had grown in a grove of cherry laurel at

his nursery had collapsed as if dead, and were beginning to give off a

most abominable odor.

"The statement of this fact set me to thinking. I remembered that

prussic acid had apparently paralyzed the tentacles on which I first

experimented. Prussic, or as it is technically known, hydrocyanic acid,

is present in the cherry laurel in considerable quantities. In this

case it was evident that the acid had not only paralyzed but killed the

medusæ.

"Leaving Wong to patrol alone for a few moments, I rushed into my

laboratory. Unfortunately, my supply of prussic acid was reduced to

about a minim--not enough even to begin with. Then I remembered that

most of the cyanides have similar toxic effects to those of hydrocyanic

acid; and I was well supplied with potassium cyanide, which I use for

dispatching insects. The next question was, how to poison the medusa

with potassium cyanide.

"I finally decided to try shooting it through the crystals. Accordingly

I removed the shot loads from two shells and replaced them with

potassium cyanide. Each shell held nearly a half ounce of the crystals.

Wadding and crimping them once more, I loaded my shotgun with them.

Then I saturated a handkerchief with a neutralizing solution, making an

emergency gas mask, and went to the door of the laboratory. I cocked

both barrels, opened the door a little way, and pushing the gun out,

muzzle upward, discharged them both. I instantly jerked the door shut,

expecting a hundred tentacles to dart after me, but not one appeared.

Then I heard the struggles and groans of the monster and knew that my

shot had told.

"After the medusa had ceased to groan and writhe, I was reasonably

certain that it was dead. I did not, however, know whether or not life

still remained in the tentacles. So I snipped one off and investigated.

You know the rest."

At this point the telephone rang, and the professor communicated his

important tidings to the Secretary of War.

That afternoon was a rather busy one for all of us. We treated

machine gun bullets with potassium cyanide solution, and dropped the

crystals into shotgun shells. We coated hand grenades with potassium

cyanide mixed with a flour and water paste. Then we began our war of

extermination.

The machine gun, we soon found, was the most efficient weapon. After we

had exhausted our other munitions, we left the shooting to the skillful

corporal, while we performed the disagreeable task of removing the

immense, stinking carcass of the giant medusa from the roof. We had to

cut it and drag it away in sections, and this nauseating work occupied

most of the afternoon.

* * * * *

It was soon learned that even in minute quantities prussic acid and

most of the cyanides were deadly to the medusæ. Their remarkable powers

of absorption and assimilation which made their rapid growth possible

acted for their destruction when the one poison that had proved so

deadly to them was introduced.

It was found that if a single attached tentacle of a stalk medusa were

touched with a small quantity of potassium cyanide or prussic acid

solution, the entire animal would be poisoned fatally in less than ten

minutes.

Airplanes armed with machine guns, the bullets of which were coated

with potassium cyanide or other prussic acid derivatives, applied over

a thin coating of wax to prevent any chemical action, cruised the skies

in search of the flying medusæ, and brought them down by the hundreds.

Such products as oil of cherry laurel, technical oil of bitter almonds,

and other commercial products containing prussic acid, were found

efficient as coatings for bullets. Firearms of all sorts were pressed

into use, the one requisite being that some form of the proper poison

could be procured for coating the projectiles.

Closely following on the heels of the first day's prussic acid warfare,

a new problem presented itself. The bodies of the dead monsters seemed

to putrefy almost as rapidly as they had been able to grow, and not

only contaminated the air with a horrible odor, but constituted a

menace to public health.

It was Professor Davis who suggested that they be used to fertilize the

ground which they had so lately despoiled not only of organic life but

of many of its life-maintaining elements. In the country this was done

chiefly by cutting them up with sharp disk harrows, then plowing them

under.

More than a year passed before the medusæ were no longer counted a

menace, but in two years it was generally believed that they had been

totally exterminated.

* * * * *

As I write the final page of this strange chronicle I am seated at the

edge of a certain clover field--the field beside which I was lying in

the mottled shade of the hackberry tree nearly three years ago, while

Sue wove a garland of clover blossoms--the field which I later saw

denuded of all life save the hideous, tentacled stalk medusæ.

Above us towers a gaunt specter--the only visible reminder of that

terrible scourge that visited the earth three years ago. The dead

hackberry still extends its naked limbs heavenward, but now as if in

thanksgiving for the vengeance that has been consummated.

The bees are humming busily in the fragrant clover once more. The mail

plane is winging its swift way, undisturbed, to the airport. And Sue,

my wife, is weaving a garland of clover blossoms.

THE END.

Spawn of the comet · 第 7 / 7 章