Captain Brooke tightened his safety belt thoughtfully, then his glance
travelled slowly to where Lieutenant Jeffery sat, fingers poised over
the gleaming bank of keys.
"I suppose we really should test this specimen first," the captain
observed. "However, if we did, I doubt if we'd have enough left for
fuel to smash Koerber." He flipped a tiny switch in the panel before
him. The silver screen lighted, and Scotty's features appeared.
"Ready 'n waiting on the firing line Cap'n!"
"Switch over to relays and strap in, Scotty, I'll give you thirty
seconds," Dennis grinned, then turned to Jeffery:
"Ready Lieutenant?"
Jeffery took one more look into the V-screen, made a last second check
of his objective--the high peak about twenty miles down the valley. As
soon as the peak was reached, the cruiser would be under full manual
control and he would dart the swift sky-tiger from the heights down on
Koerber's spacer, in a terrific power dive. He nodded satisfied, "Yes,
sir, ready!"
"Take off!" The command whipped out and Jeffery's fingers flashed over
the rows of keys with automatic precision. For the fraction of a second
there was a muffled, rumbling thunder. Then, both Dennis Brooke and
Jeffery were slammed back against their air-cushions as the astounding
crescendo of acceleration hit them.
Twisting his head slowly, Captain Dennis looked at his navigator in
astonishment. Tom Jeffery had always been the acme of dependability,
his precision in plotting had practically become a legend in the I.S.P.
"Cruiser's running wild!" Jeffery gasped painfully. "The key bank
must ... be out ... of order. I'd never ... never use that much speed
on take-off!"
"Slack off...." Dennis gritted. He saw Jeffery struggle to get his
long, supple hands back on the keys. Blood throbbed and pounded in
surging waves at his temples, and he knew he'd black out in a matter of
seconds if his Navigator didn't reach those keys.
Concentrating all his remaining energy, Jeffery reached and pushed one
hand forward, but it was like pushing against an invisible wall. His
hand refused to move any further, and then he felt the impenetrable
blackness welling up inside his brain. Nervelessly the Navigator's
hand dropped, but two fingers scraped over the key-bank and the
flashing cruiser changed its course. The ship angled upward sharply and
gradually reduced its speed. Like two punch-drunk mortals, Dennis and
Jeffery shook their heads, doggedly trying to clear the clinging black
webs from their brains.
They were not unnerved, for to these two, danger was too familiar a
face, it was a constant shadow at their heels, the eternal companion at
their table--without it, life would have seemed flat, without zest.
"Worse than a shot of Martian _Absytron_! Whew!" Jeffery exclaimed,
startled out of his usually laconic state. "That mineral's terrific!"
"I was just thinking the same thing," Captain Brooke agreed quietly.
"Which makes it doubly important that we settle scores with Koerber and
leave this planetoid. If the reaction of this mineral's true, we've
found a new type of fuel, far more powerful than anything known to us
at present."
"Imagine if that space-rat gets hold of it," Jeffery concurred in awed
tones. "He could rule the space-lanes, commit any crime and outpace any
ship in the universe!"
"Besides," Dennis said ruminatively, "this mineral'd make Terra
independent of Venus for her supply of radio-actives. It would usher
in a new era, Jeffery!"
Suddenly it seemed to Dennis that there was even more at stake than
the smashing of a dangerous outlaw, than the recovery of his former
state in the I.S.P., or the avenging of Marla, if she were dead--the
destiny of Terra was at stake too. As if one of those cross-roads of
Life, at which an individual is sometimes poised by fate, had opened
before his gaze, and history awaited being written in the invisible
pages of space. He had come prepared to die to fulfill a mission--but
now matters had changed. The need was not to die, but to live, that
an unsuspecting world might rise to new heights of achievement on the
incredibly radio-active marvel of this unknown planetoid. With a swift
movement he threw on the panel switch, and his voice boomed out:
"All hands attention! Koerber has seen us, no doubt. But whether or not
he's fore-warned, we attack as scheduled. Stand-by!"
The I.S.P. Cruiser swept back up the long valley, until it was almost
opposite the Pirate's camp. Only the tremendous mountain range
separated them. Glancing at the banks of keys, the instruments and
dials under the V-Screen, Dennis issued orders:
"Scotty, give it everything you have!" He grinned as Scotty gave back
one of his inimitable replies.
"Dallas!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Take the stern turret, and start firing when we pull out--angle
thirty-eight, precision!" He again threw a quick glance at the panel.
"Randall! Take forward position, secondary turret. Hold fire till they
open up, or until I give you the command. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," Randall's voice was tense.
It was then Captain Dennis turned to his Navigator. "I'll take the main
forward turret myself, Jeffery! Now, use a thirty-five degree dive,
pull out at five-hundred feet and use MA-24 to pull out and regain
altitude." He grinned fleetingly at the startled Jeffery.
"But ... but you're going to man the forward turret--get the gunner,
Cap'n ... I...." But Dennis silenced him with a swift gesture.
"Taking no chances, I want to be sure that spawn of Barrabas's
smeared, if I have to do it myself!"
* * * * *
The long, gleaming cruiser was like the spear of the Angel Gabriel,
unerring, fatal, as the skillful fingers of its navigator in the
control room swept over the keys and the ship obediently canted
downward. Suddenly it took the plunge in a supernal power-dive that
sent it hurtling straight at the Pirate's camp below. All around the
cruiser a rain of Genton-shells exploded in buffeting succession, as
the cruiser quivered and strained holding the dizzying dive.
From the main forward turret, a stream of fire scorched the
surroundings below, starting great fires on the stacked supplies
which had been removed from Koerber's ship to facilitate repairs. The
atom-blast raised clouds of iridescent mineral as it peeled the ground
like a gigantic knife. But the Genton-Shells prevented close aim, as
the explosions buffeted the cruiser off her course. Captain Dennis
finally came into the control room.
"They saw us, all right," he growled angrily. "I wasn't able to come
closer than a hundred feet of Koerber's ship with the gun!"
"They've almost got us boxed in, sir. I can't hold her on much longer."
"All right then, Jeffery, pull out ... right bank ... that should throw
them off long enough for us to break away. Give me a few seconds to
adjust my sights, I'm going back to the turret!"
The great cruiser had reached its objective and swept like a stupendous
bird of death over the Pirate camp spewing a rain of death. Two pirates
caught behind mounds of supplies and provisions were blasted together
with the boxes that protected them. The stern turret of the black
Pirate cruiser was a melting, incandescent mass as Captain Brooke's
atom-blast found its mark. Suddenly the meteor-like vessel canted to
the right and zoomed upward at the same time, then with vertiginous
speed flashed beyond the range of the Pirate's full fire-power, leaving
Koerber cursing in impotent fury. The sound of wracking concussions
died away; the unearthly ascending whine of the atom-blasts ceased, and
the cruiser flashed back to base.
"At least we'll have a choice this time where to set the ship down,"
Lieutenant Jeffery said wryly, as he watched the changed scene on the
V-screen before him.
Watching also, Dennis Brooke suddenly leaned forward with great
interest, but abruptly the emergency thermo-bulb flashed on and off and
a shrill buzzer sounded. Dennis threw the switch quickly.
"We'll have to set her down, Cap'n!" Scotty announced. "She's reached
the danger mark."
"Hell!" Jeffery exclaimed succinctly.
"Set her down!" Dennis ordered, but the ship was already headed
groundwards.
The air lock on the cruiser opened and the crew jumped to the ground.
It was the same bizarre landscape, harsh, Dantesque, extreme.
"Since we've reached a temporary impasse," the Captain explained to
them, "we may at least examine something I happened to see just prior
to landing. I have a vague idea concerning this small world; it is just
possible I may be right."
"What did you see, sir?" Randall, forever impulsive and emotional,
asked, curiously apprehensive.
"You probably won't like the idea so much, Lieutenant," Captain Brooke
said quietly, shifting the weight of his atom-blast on his hip. He
smiled thinly, "We're going to investigate some of those playmates of
yours--the spheres!"
Randall's face tightened with a peculiar expression. He started to
speak, then noting Dallas' sardonic smile, he stopped.
"Just before we landed," the Captain continued, "I saw a large pit
filled with the globes up in the plateau just ahead. I want to try an
experiment. From what I saw happened with you Dallas, when you tried to
blast that globe and then threw rocks at it and it went away, and yet,
it pursued Randall ... well, I have a theory that I want to test. If it
works, we may yet turn the tables on Koerber."
* * * * *
With perfect confidence, Captain Dennis turned and began to stride
toward the plateau in the near distance. Without hesitation Dallas
strode behind him, followed by Scotty and Jeffery, and a few other
lesser members of the crew. Only Randall hesitated as if an awful
premonition paralyzed his steps. He seemed to make an heroic effort,
and hesitantly at first, then with greater confidence he began to
follow the leaders.
At last they were standing at the rim of the vast pit; looking down,
Dennis realized it must be all of a mile in width. It seemed filled
with clusters of the globes which vibrated gently at the bottom.
"Millions of the damned things!" Dallas exclaimed.
The pit sloped down to a point at the center of the bottom, and there
was the immense cluster of globes that Dennis had seen. From small
ones, the size of thermo-bulbs, to gigantic spheres fully six feet in
diameter, it was a pulsating, shimmering mass of changing opalescences,
a seething cauldron of prismatic hues, dormant now, but ready to flame
into living light.
Randall, the last to arrive, approached the edge and gazed down. The
ethereal, ghostly seeming spheres with their pulsating auras sent an
icy shiver of dread along his taut nerves. He shuddered and turned to
the others. "Let's go," he said hoarsely. "Those demons might come
floating up here!" There was a hysterical quality to his voice that did
not pass unnoticed to Captain Dennis, who was observing him closely.
"Let's go!" Randall cried again, his face contorted.
Suddenly there was a stream of movement below; from the central mass
of globes, several detached themselves and floated silently upwards in
swirls of living light.
Cold, unreasoning fear surged into Randall's mind. In his hysteria,
the spheres were coming after him! His thin face with the wide,
fear-stricken blue eyes was ashen while his lips twitched to form words
that failed to come. At last he managed to scream: "Run! They're coming
after us." And Randall was racing pell-mell back to the spacer.
Captain Dennis stood his ground, Dallas beside him. "Come here, you
fool!" Dennis cried exasperated. But it was too late. With flashing
speed two of the spheres outraced Randall and now hovered over him.
They were whirling into a vortex of incredible light, lovely beyond
description, and beneath them, convulsed with horror, Randall raced for
his life.
"Action!" Dennis shouted. Instantly several atom-blasts spewed their
deadly charge into the two pursuing globes. They drank in the awful
energy charge and glowed supernally vivid, still unharmed, then,
swooping downwards they charged Randall, and the boy was fighting
them, flailing his arms wildly, haphazardly trying to fend them off.
The other members of the party had now held their fire, for Randall
was enmeshed in the luminous globes. And suddenly the globes seemed
to become part of the boy's body, enveloping it in their translucent,
fatal embrace.
Before their eyes, they saw the boyish form shrivel and fall crumpled
to the ground as if all the energy had been absorbed in that unearthly
embrace of living light. In an instant it was over.
V
Lazily, the two spheres floated upward, their fire deepening into
swirls of colors, swirling slowly over the prostrate figure as if
exulting.
Unutterable horror showed in Captain Brooke's eyes; then flaming anger
shook him. "The dirty...." Dennis ground out the words from set, taut
lips. Furiously he began blasting at the globes. The spheres rocked
and twisted in the tortured air currents, then gradually they rose and
floated up the valley.
Dennis kneeled beside the still form of Randall; slid his hand under
the boy's jacket. He rose slowly and faced the rest of the awed crew,
his eyes topaz slits of consuming fury.
"Now we know how dangerous, how deadly those entities are; for make
no mistake, they are entities. A strange, unearthly form of life that
can suck a man's life-energy. Randall had good reason to be afraid,
poor kid! Those globes react to the most powerful of the emotions,
and fear being perhaps one of the strongest, unerringly draws them. I
feel somehow responsible for this boy's death. Still, he has not died
in vain, for in his sacrifice, he has given us a clue to Koerber's
ultimate defeat." He paused gazing somberly at the still form at his
feet: "Remember, he died a hero, for whatever success we may have, we
shall owe to him!"
Rocks iridescent and vari-hued were piled high into a cairn, making
Randall's last resting place, in the depths of the space he had feared
so.
The remaining members of the crew walked back slowly to the waiting
ship. A dark silence hung over the group as they filed to their
respective sleeping quarters. All but Captain Dennis, Dallas, Jeffery
and Scotty, who went on to their council room. Quietly they took their
places at the small table. Jeffery sat with his long hands on his lap,
silent, while Scotty methodically tamped down the Venusian tobacco with
which he had filled his blackened pipe. Dallas said nothing. His vast
bulk overflowed the seat and his tremendous chest heaved with emotions
alien to his nature. All of them seemed, to be waiting for Captain
Dennis Brooke's words. The latter sat down last, absorbed in thought.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet, sombre almost.
"I told you," he began without preamble, "that I had a vague
theory about those spheres. Well, I know now. Randall proved
it this afternoon. There can be no doubt that those globes are
radio-active--the way they react to our atom-guns leads me to believe
that they subsist on energy--radiant energy from the mineral and
radio-actives of this planetoid. Their atomic scale must be such that
their component atoms make up the two missing elements in our atomic
scale! _This is the first time that man has ever encountered these
two elements._ And of course, this is the first time these spheres
have ever encountered humans--organic life--on an atomic scale so
far removed from their own. Naturally they're curious. They tried to
investigate and what they encountered from Randall was _fear_! _Perhaps
the second strongest emotion._ Our fear must send out intangible
vibrations that impinge harshly upon their own vibrations and lead them
to attack. What fear arouses in them, we shall probably never know.
The fact is that our human emotion of _fear_ in conflict with their
vibratory rate renders them fatal, and even seems to draw them with a
strange magnetic attraction!"
For a moment every one of the four was silent, as the explanation
cleared so much of the mystery before them. Then Captain Dennis walked
over to the locker where the space-suits were racked. He began slipping
into one of the bulky suits.
"I'm going outside again. If this spacer's insulation against the
spheres, there's no reason why a space-suit should not be also. Two
of you cover me from the stern turret, and two--including a crew
member, from the forward turret, you can at least delay their attack by
blasting air currents, in case _they do attack_!" He dogged the last
clamp into place and moved heavily through the doorway.
* * * * *
The men watching from the gun turrets saw Dennis approach the vast
pit which seemed to be the abode of the sphere. The face-plate of his
helmet was open. For minutes he stood motionless on the rim of the pit.
They knew he was concentrating, duplicating the emotion of fear. Then
with a catch in their throats they observed groups of the spheres rise
majestically from the depths and swoop toward the waiting Dennis.
With a swift gesture Captain Brooke snapped the face-plate closed. The
spheres came to a complete stop about twenty feet from the waiting
captain. The globes pulsed gently, as if waiting ... waiting.
Again Dennis opened the face-plate wide, then snapped it shut. In the
brief interval the spheres had darted into action, sweeping closer.
Turning at last, Captain Dennis strode back to the ship, and slowly the
flaming globes sank back into the pit out of sight.
"It works," Scotty yelled delightedly, as the other men ran to their
airlock to greet their Captain.
Once again at the table, Dennis began: "Now we can have a definite
plan. Here's the strategy, two of us will use space-suits and rocket
belts to lure as many of the spheres as possible to a point near
Koerber's camp, and _one of us must enter Koerber's domain with a ready
made story_! That man, the one to enter Koerber's camp, will be _the
bait for the spheres_. He will concentrate on maintaining the powerful
emotion of fear in his mind, as strongly as he's able. Dennis paused,
his hazel eyes brilliant with anticipation, surveying the men around
him.
"All of us know that the chosen man may not come through this
alive--Koerber may not believe his story ... the spheres may succeed
in getting him. However, if he's clever and quick...." Captain Dennis
shrugged his great shoulders. It was then Jeffery interrupted him:
"We'll draw lots for that, won't we, Captain?" His voice was harsh.
A faint nod from Dennis accepted the question as a fact. The Captain
walked over to a cabinet and picked up something. Returning to the
table he continued:
"The fourth man will have to stay here and broadcast." He turned a
small box over on the table and several objects the size of small
coins, spilled out. "These midget speakers may or may not work--anyway,
propaganda at a psychological moment has intense effect, and is worth
trying out. The man who goes into Koerber's camp will take some
of these and get rid of them in strategic places wherever he can.
Remember, the job of broadcasting is just as important as any other
in this set up. Keep hammering at them. They won't be able to locate
the speakers until it is too late. Keep pounding into their heads
that this _new weapon of the I.S.P. is invincible_! Tell them it is
radio-controlled and invulnerable as far as present arms are concerned.
Keep working on them ... don't let up for a minute!"
Jeffery had been methodically tearing strips of paper and now he handed
them to Dennis.
"Three strips of paper, Captain ... and four men!"
Dennis searched the grim, tense faces before him, then handed the
strips to Scotty who picked up a book and started putting the strips
between the pages. The other members of the council watched his back
curiously, until the crash of an overturned chair snapped their heads
around. They looked squarely into the muzzle of an atom-blast gun.
Their jaws went slack with astonishment.
"I am the commander of this cruiser," Captain Brooke's voice, flat and
opaque had an unequivocal finality. "Walk over to the wall, stand five
feet from the base, lean forward and press your hands against the wall!"
With the three men completely off balance, Dennis methodically disarmed
them. He placed all their weapons on the table, and then proceeded to
encase himself in one of the bulky space-suits, keeping a careful eye
on the fuming Dallas. As he dressed he continued to talk.
"I know that nothing short of this could convince you to let me be
the man to enter Koerber's camp. But it's got to be this way. I swore
to enter that black cruiser if I had to take it apart, and by Venus'
thinking spiders, I'll go through with it! If Marla's there, she has to
be rescued from that cut-throat gang--besides, I think I can make up a
much more plausible story, being as I was the one in disgrace with the
I.S.P., not you!" He was dressed now, and stood for a moment gazing
at their reddened faces. "I'm leaving now, I'll dog this door when I
leave. There's an atomic welder in the locker and you can get out in
three-quarters of an hour. The rest is up to you men." He was gone as
the metal door clanged tightly shut.
* * * * *
Trudging along the iridescent stretch of desolate ground, the thought
uppermost in Dennis' mind was Marla. He was torn between the fear of
what that brutal, conscienceless pirate might have done to her, and
the fear she might have survived. Try as he might to reconstruct the
emotion of fear, he failed time after time. Only the dull, ceaseless
fury at Koerber remained in his mind, and his heart, a fury that
smouldered in the depths of his being.
Slowly he approached the camp where Koerber's men tried to repair the
damage his raid had made. Dennis kept his hands slightly in the air,
and his feet kept kicking a scuff of glittering dust that could be
easily noticed.
Without warning, an atom-ray blasted bits of a rocky cliff to Captain
Brooke's right and an invisible voice boomed out:
"Hold it, copper!" There was a noticeable awe in that voice and it made
Dennis smile. The scum remembered, it seemed!
Dennis stopped abruptly. "I'll talk to Koerber," he said coldly.
"Hold it right where you are, Captain Koerber's coming outside," the
same voice shouted.
Cautiously Dennis let another of the midget speakers fall to the ground
behind him.
The circular airlock opened and a ladder descended automatically. Down
the steps came a short, heavy-set man. His aquiline features would
have been handsome because of their symmetry, and the pale olive skin
tanned by the vast spaces, but for the perpetual sneer that twisted
rather full lips. Koerber's wide set eyes, were dark, brilliant, and
just now had a sort of incredulous amusement, as if the spectacle of
Captain Dennis Brooke come to parley with him were something quite too
fantastic to believe.
"Well ... well! This _is_ a land of miracles!" He flashed a sardonic
smile, displaying white, even teeth.
"Considering my reputation for ... er ... shall we say dishonor?" He
smiled again, "You are risking a great deal by coming here, aren't you,
Captain?"
Captain Brooke shrugged his vast shoulders, and a thin smile of
contempt curved his lips. "It occurs to me, Koerber, that at my age men
are neither rash nor fools ... unless the stakes are high. And," he
paused deliberately, conscious of the instant interest his words had
aroused, "and it happens that the stakes are beyond ... far beyond all
that you and I, and even the I.S.P., are worth. Man, our feet are now
_on the base of a great empire_!"
Interest, cupidity and astonishment mingled in the expression of
Captain Koerber's face. Finally he guffawed.
"Captain, they say that too many nights in the Jovian Chamber turns a
man's mind, I am beginning to believe it!" Then his face darkened:
"Let's finish it quick, Dennis, what're you selling?"
"A partnership in an empire, in exchange for Marla!" Dennis Brooke said
quietly but with deadly emphasis, ignoring the pointed barb.
Koerber still gazed at the space-suited figure incredulously. With an
imperious motion of his powerful hand, he motioned Captain Brooke up
the ladder, then followed at a distance, his hand on the atom-blaster.
He had not noticed Dennis drop another tiny speaker on the ground
behind.
* * * * *
Inside the black cruiser, Dennis was herded by two gunmen into a
spacious cabin. It was furnished in the splendor of priceless loot from
the ships of several planets. He felt his atom-blast lifted from its
holster and the indignity of exploratory fingers seeking hidden arms.
He walked past them to see Koerber seated in what had evidently been
a Martian imperial chair, a throne-like affair of priceless hardwoods,
incrusted with rare metals and jewels, and bearing a canopy of soft,
ocelandian furs, with jewelled brooches at the corners. He sat silent,
the faint satirical smile still on his lips, as if for once in his life
the very depths of his involved and merciless soul were filled with
joy, as indeed was the case. "Speak your piece!" he said insolently,
and motioned for the guards to cover the exit.
"I shall be brief," Dennis shrugged his shoulders. "Marla means more
to me than anything else. What can she be to you than just another
passing conquest? There's no satisfaction in possession without love,
Koerber--and _there are other things that you would prefer_!"
"For instance!" The words came like a whiplash.
"Wealth beyond even your imagination, and power ... power as you have
never even conceived could ever fall into your hands, man!"
"How do you know Marla's alive?" The sardonic grin became sadistic in
its enjoyment at the fleeting shadow of pain that crossed Dennis' face.
"Because," Dennis spoke slowly, quietly, "she's too valuable for you
to miss the chance to ransom her. You know the I.S.P., never lets its
agents down--you knew she'd accepted an assignment, didn't you?"
"Of course, I have scouts in every planet, and means of communication
even you don't know anything about--like that scout you knocked out on
Venus," he finished venomously.
"Well?" Dennis said laconically.
"You'll have to explain better. Where's the wealth and all this power
you're talking about to come from?"
Dennis knew he was playing his last card. If the man had even a shred
of humanity, of intelligent selfishness, the way was open, if Koerber
allowed his undying hatred of the I.S.P. to dominate him, he'd have to
fight for his life.
"All right, I'll give it to you. This planetoid is full of a new
radio-active metal of such terrific power that used even in its raw
state it can supply power for speeds beyond anything known to us at
present. The reason you saw our ship before we attacked was that
we used a small specimen of the mineral and it flung us into space
with such terrific acceleration that it almost sent us beyond the
planetoid's gravity. If my navigator's hand had not fallen on the keys
and changed the course, we would have been wrecked. There are untold
billions of credits in radio-active mineral strewn on the surface. Now,
if you can't imagine what that means ... what's the use of my talking.
"It'll make us invulnerable. A few tons of this new fuel will purchase
a fleet of spacers of the first order, such as this one you have,
Koerber; and with a fleet powered by the mineral we can conquer any
planet. Power ..." Dennis laughed. "Man, we'd lord space!"
As Dennis spoke, the expression of Machiavellian greed and cunning in
Koerber's face heightened, mingled by triumph. At last his laughter,
peal after peal of cold, remorseless laughter thundered in the
luxurious cabin.
"You fool, you utter fool! _You_ have told me this and expect me to
bargain with _you_! So you would share with me supreme power over the
known universe.... One reason why I've lived so long is that I never
share with anyone, and I never trust anyone, copper!" He flung the
final insult in Dennis' face, and laughed to see Dennis' eyes blaze
with murderous fury.
"Throw him in the cell!" Koerber said imperiously. Instantly the two
gunmen went into action, prodding Dennis with drawn blasters. They
drove him down a corridor to a metal cell and heaved him into it, then
left him lying on the metal floor.