Chapter 5: First Blood

The next twelve hours dragged with terrible slowness. Sleep was impossible and eating was difficult, even though all knew that they would have need of the full measure of their strength. Seaton set up various combinations of switching devices connected to electrical timers, and spent hours trying, with all his marvelous quickness of muscular control, to cut shorter and ever shorter the time between the opening and the closing of the switch. At last he arranged a powerful electro-magnetic device so that one impulse would both open and close the switch, with an open period of one one-thousandth of a second. Only then was he satisfied.

“A thousandth is enough to give us a look around, due to persistence of vision; and it is short enough so that they won’t see it unless they have a recording observer on us. Even if they still have rays on us, they can’t possibly neutralize our screens in that short an exposure. All right, gang? We’ll take five visiplates and cover the sphere. If any of you get a glimpse of him, mark the exact spot and outline on the glass. All set?”

He pressed the button. The stars flashed in the black void for an instant, then were again shut out.

“Here he is, Dick!” shrieked Margaret. “Right here--he covered almost half the visiplate!”

She outlined for him, as nearly as she could, the exact position of the object she had seen, and he calculated rapidly.

“Fine business!” he exulted. “He’s within half a mile of us, three-quarters on--perfect! I thought he’d be so far away that I’d have to take photographs to locate him. He hasn’t a single ray on us, either. That bird’s goose is cooked right now, folks, unless every man on watch has his hand right on the controls of a generator and can get into action in less than a tenth of a second! Hang on, gang, I’m going to step on the gas!”

After making sure that everyone was fastened immovably in their seats he strapped himself in the pilot’s seat, then set the bar toward the strange vessel and applied fully one-third of its full power. The Skylark, of course, did not move. Then, with bewildering rapidity, he went into action; face glued to the visiplate, hands moving faster than the eye could follow--the left closing and opening the switch controlling the zone of force, the right swinging the steering controls to all points of the sphere. The mighty vessel staggered this way and that, jerking and straining terribly as the zone was thrown on and off, lurching sickeningly about the central bearing as the gigantic power of the driving bar was exerted, now in one direction, now in another. After a second or two of this mad gyration, Seaton shut off the power. He then released the zone, after assuring himself that both inner and outer screens were operating at the highest possible rating.

“There, that’ll hold ‘em for a while, I guess. This battle was even shorter than the other one--and a lot more decisive. Let’s turn on the flood-lights and see what the pieces look like.”

The lights revealed that the zone of force had indeed sliced the enemy vessel into pieces. No fragment was large enough to be navigable or dangerous and each was sharply cut, as though sheared from its neighbor by some gigantic curved blade. Dorothy sobbed with relief in Seaton’s arms as Crane, with one arm around his wife, grasped his hand.

“That was flawless, Dick. As an exhibition of perfect co-ordination and instantaneous timing under extreme physical difficulties, I have never seen its equal.”

“You certainly saved all our lives,” Margaret added.

“Only fifty-fifty, Peg,” Seaton protested, and blushed vividly. “Mart did most of it, you know. I’d have gummed up everything back there if he had let me. Let’s see what we can find out about them.”

He touched the lever and the Skylark moved slowly toward the wreckage, the scattered fragments of which were beginning to move toward and around each other because of their mutual gravitational forces. Snapping on a searchlight, he swung its beam around, and as it settled upon one of the larger sections he saw a group of hooded figures; some of them upon the metal, others floating slowly toward it through space.

“Poor devils--they didn’t have a chance,” he remarked regretfully. “However, it was either they or we--look out! Sweet spirits of niter!”

He leaped back to the controls and the others were hurled bodily to the floor as he applied the power--for at a signal each of the hooded figures had leveled a tube and once more the outer screen had flamed into incandescence.

As the Skylark leaped away, Seaton focussed an attractor upon the one who had apparently signaled the attack. Rolling the vessel over in a short loop, so that the captive was hurled off into space upon the other side, he snatched the tube from the figure’s grasp with one auxiliary attractor, and anchored head and limbs with others, so that the prisoner could scarcely move a muscle. Then, while Crane and the women scrambled up off the floor and hurried to the visiplates, Seaton cut in rays six, two-seven, and five-eight. Ray six, “the softener,” was a band of frequencies extending from violet far up into the ultra-violet. When driven with sufficient power, this ray destroyed eyesight and nervous tissue, and its power increased still further, actually loosened the molecular structure of matter. Ray two-seven was operated in a range of frequencies far below the visible red. It was pure heat--under its action matter became hotter and hotter as long as it was applied, the upper limit being only the theoretical maximum of temperature. Ray five-eight was high-tension, high-frequency alternating current. Any conductor in its path behaved precisely as it would in the Ajax-Northrup induction furnace, which can boil platinum in ten seconds! These three rays composed the beam which Seaton directed upon the mass of metal from which the enemy had elected to continue the battle--and behind each ray, instead of the small energy at the command of its Osnomian inventor, were the untold millions of kilowatts developed by a one-hundred-pound bar of disintegrating copper!

There ensued a brief but appalling demonstration of the terrible effectiveness of those Osnomian weapons against anything not protected by ultra-powered ray screens. Metal and men--if men they were--literally vanished. One moment they were outlined starkly in the beam; there was a moment of searing, coruscating, blinding light--the next moment the beam bored on into the void, unimpeded. Nothing was visible save an occasional tiny flash, as some condensed or solidified droplet of the volatilized metal re-entered the path of that ravening beam.

“We’ll see if there’s any more of them loose,” Seaton remarked, as he shut off the force and probed into the wreckage with a searchlight.

No sign of life or of activity was revealed, and the light was turned upon the captive. He was held motionless in the invisible grip of the attractors, at the point where the force of those peculiar magnets was exactly balanced by the outward thrust of the repellers. By manipulating the attractor holding it, Seaton brought the strange tubular weapon into the control-room through a small air-lock in the wall and examined it curiously, but did not touch it.

“I never heard of a hand-ray before, so I guess I won’t play with it much until after I learn something about it.”

“So you have taken a captive?” asked Margaret. “What are you going to do with him?”

“I’m going to drag him in here and read his mind. He’s one of the officers of that ship, I believe, and I’m going to find out how to build one exactly like it. This old can is now as obsolete as a 1920 flivver, and I’m going to make us a later model. How about it, Mart, don’t we want something really up-to-date if we’re going to keep on space-hopping?”

“We certainty do. Those denizens seem to be particularly venomous, and we will not be safe unless we have the most powerful and most efficient space-ship possible. However, that fellow may be dangerous, even now--in fact, it is practically certain that he is.”

“You chirped it, ace. I’d much rather touch a pound of dry nitrogen iodide. I’ve got him spread-eagled so that he can’t destroy his brain until after we’ve read it, though, so there’s no particular hurry about him. We’ll leave him out there for a while, to waste his sweetness on the desert air. Let’s all look around for the Kondal. I sure hope they didn’t get her in that fracas.”

They diffused the rays of eight giant searchlights into a vertical fan, and with it swept slowly through almost a semi-circle before anything was seen. Then there was revealed a cluster of cylindrical objects amid a mass of wreckage, which Crane recognized at once.

“The Kondal is gone, Dick. There is what is left of her, and most of her cargo of salt, in jute bags.”

As he spoke, a series of green flashes played upon the bags, and Seaton yelled in relief.

“They got the ship all right, but Dunark and Sitar got away--they’re still with their salt!”

The Skylark moved over to the wreck and Seaton, relinquishing the controls to Crane, donned a vacuum suit, entered the main air-lock and snapped on the motor which sealed off the lock, pumped the air into a pressure-tank, and opened the outside door. He threw a light line to the two figures and pushed himself lightly toward them. He then talked briefly to Dunark in the hand-language, and handed the end of the line to Sitar, who held it while the two men explored the fragments of the strange vessel, gathering up various things of interest as they came upon them.

Back in the control-room, Dunark and Sitar let their pressure decrease gradually to that of the terrestrial vessel and removed the face-plates from their helmets.

“Again, oh Karfedo of Earth, we thank you for our lives,” Dunark began, gasping for breath, when Seaton leaped to the air-gauge with a quick apology.

“Never thought of the effect our atmospheric pressure would have on you two. We can stand yours all right, but you’d pretty nearly pass out on ours. There, that’ll suit you better. Didn’t you throw out your zone of force?”

“Yes, as soon as I saw that our screens were not going to hold.” The Osnomians’ labored breathing became normal as the air-pressure increased to a value only a little below that of the dense atmosphere of their native planet. “I then increased the power of the screens to the extreme limit and opened the zone for a moment to see how the screens would hold with the added power. That instant was enough. In that period a concentrated beam, such as I had no idea could ever be generated, went through the outer and inner screens as though they were not there, through the four-foot arenak of the hull, through the entire central installation, and through the hull on the other side. Sitar and I were wearing suits...”

“Say, Mart, that’s one bet we overlooked. It’s a good idea, too--those strangers wore them all the time as regular equipment, apparently. Next time we get into a jam, be sure we do it; they might come in handy. Excuse me, Dunark--go ahead.”

“We had suits on, so as soon as the ray was shut off, which was almost instantly, I phoned the crew to jump, and we leaped out through the hole in the hull. The air rushing out gave us an impetus that carried us many miles out into space, and it required many hours for the slight attraction of the mass here to draw us back to it. We just got back a few minutes ago. That air-blast is probably what saved us, as they destroyed our vessel with atomic bombs and hunted down the four men of our crew, who stayed comparatively close to the scene. They rayed you for about an hour with the most stupendous beams imaginable--no such generators have ever been considered possible of construction--but couldn’t make any impression upon you. Then they shut off their power and stood by, waiting. I wasn’t looking at you when you released your zone. One moment it was there, and the next, the stranger had been cut in pieces. The rest you know.”

“We’re sure glad you two got away, Dunark. Well, Mart, what say we drag that guy in and give him the once-over?”

Seaton swung the attractors holding the prisoner until they were in line with the main air-lock, then reduced the power of the repellers. As he approached the lock various controls were actuated, and soon the stranger stood in the control room, held immovable against one wall, while Crane, with a 0.50-caliber elephant gun, stood against the other.

“Perhaps you girls should go somewhere else,” suggested Crane.

“Not on your life!” protested Dorothy, who, eyes wide and flushed with excitement, stood near a door, with a heavy automatic pistol in her hand. “I wouldn’t miss this for a farm!”

“Got him solid,” declared Seaton, after a careful inspection of the various attractors and repellers he had bearing upon the prisoner, “Now let’s get him out of that suit. No--better read his air first, temperature and pressure--might analyze it, too.”

Nothing could be seen of the person of the stranger, since he was encased in vacuum armor, but it was plainly evident that he was very short and immensely broad and thick. By means of hollow needles forced through the leather-like material of the suit Seaton drew off a sample of the atmosphere within, into an Orsat apparatus, while Crane made pressure and temperature readings.

“Temperature, one hundred ten degrees. Pressure, twenty-eight pounds--about the same as ours is, now that we have stepped it up to keep the Osnomians from suffering.”

Seaton soon reported that the atmosphere was quite similar to that of the Skylark, except that it was much higher in carbon dioxide and carried an extremely high percentage of water vapor. He took up a pair of heavy shears and laid the suit open full length, on both sides, knowing that the powerful attractors would hold the stranger immovable. He then wrenched off the helmet and cast the whole suit aside, revealing the enemy officer, clad in a tunic of scarlet silk.

He was less than five feet tall. His legs were merely blocks, fully as great in diameter as they were in length, supporting a torso of Herculean dimensions. His arms were as large as a strong man’s thigh and hung almost to the floor. His astounding shoulders, fully a yard across, merged into and supported an enormous head. The being possessed recognizable nose, ears, and mouth; and the great domed forehead and huge cranium bespoke an immense and a highly developed brain.

But it was the eyes of this strange creature that fixed and held the attention. Large they were, and black--the dull, opaque, lusterless black of platinum sponge. The pupils were a brighter black, and in them flamed ruby lights: pitiless, mocking, cold. Plainly to be read in those sinister depths were the untold wisdom of unthinkable age, sheer ruthlessness, mighty power, and ferocity unrelieved. His baleful gaze swept from one member of the party to another, and to meet the glare of those eyes was to receive a tangible physical blow--it was actually ponderable force; that of embodied hardness and of ruthlessness incarnate, generated in that merciless brain and hurled forth through those flame-shot, Stygian orbs.

“If you don’t need us for anything, Dick, I think Peggy and I will go upstairs,” Dorothy broke the long silence.

“Good idea, Dot. This isn’t going to be pretty to watch--or to do, either, for that matter.”

“If I stay here another minute I’ll see that thing as long as I live; and I might be very ill. Goodbye,” and heartless and bloodthirsty Osnomian though she was, Sitar had gone to join the two Terrestrial women.

“I didn’t want to say much before the girls, but I want to check a couple of ideas with you two. Don’t you think it’s a safe bet that this bird reported back to his headquarters?”

“I have been thinking that very thing,” Crane spoke gravely, and Dunark nodded agreement. “Any race capable of developing such a vessel as this would almost certainly have developed systems of communication in proportion.”

“That’s the way I doped it out--and that’s why I’m going to read his mind, if I have to burn out his brain to do it. We’ve got to know how far away from home he is, whether he has turned in any report about us, and all about it. Also, I’m going to get the plans, power, and armament of their most modern ships, if he knows them, so that your gang, Dunark, can build us one like them; because the next boat that tackles us will be warned and we won’t be able to take it by surprise. We won’t stand a chance in the Skylark. With a ship like theirs, however, we can run--or we can fight, if we have to. Any other ideas, fellows?”

As neither Crane nor Dunark had any other suggestions to offer, Seaton brought out the mechanical educator, watching the creature’s eyes narrowly. As he placed one headset over that motionless head the captive sneered in pure contempt, but when the case was opened and the array of tubes and transformers was revealed, that expression disappeared; and when he added a super-power stage by cutting in a heavy-duty transformer and a five-kilowatt transmitting tube, Seaton thought that he saw an instantaneously suppressed flicker of doubt or fear.

“That headset thing was child’s play to him, but he doesn’t like the looks of this other stuff at all. I don’t blame him a bit--I wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of this hook-up myself. I’m going to put him on the recorder and on the visualizer,” Seaton continued as he connected spools of wire and tape, lamps, and lenses in an intricate system and donned a headset. “I’d hate to have much of that brain in my own skull--afraid I’d bite myself. I’m just going to look on, and when I see anything I want, I’ll grab it and put it into my own brain. I’m starting off easy, not using the big tube.”

He closed several switches, lights flashed, and the wires and tapes began to feed through the magnets.

“Well, I’ve got his language, folks, he seemed to want me to have it. It’s got a lot of stuff in it that I can’t understand yet, though, so guess I’ll give him some English.”

He changed several connections and the captive spoke, in a profoundly deep bass voice.

“You may as well discontinue your attempt, for you will gain no information from me. That machine of yours was out of date with us thousands of years ago.”

“Save your breath or talk sense,” said Seaton, coldly. “I gave you English so that you can give me the information I want. You already know what it is. When you get ready to talk, say so, or throw it on the screen of your own accord. If you don’t, I’ll put on enough voltage to burn your brain out. Remember, I can read your dead brain as well as though it were alive, but I want your thoughts, as well as your knowledge, and I’m going to have them. If you give them voluntarily, I will tinker up a lifeboat that you can navigate back to your own world and let you go; if you resist I intend getting them anyway and you shall not leave this vessel alive. You may take your choice.”

“You are childish, and that machine is impotent against my will. I could have defied it a hundred years ago, when I was barely a grown man. Know you, American, that we supermen of the Fenachrone are as far above any of the other and lesser breeds of beings who spawn in their millions in their countless myriads of races upon the numberless planets of the Universe as you are above the inert metal from which this, your ship, was built. The Universe is ours, and in due course we shall take it--just as in due course I shall take this vessel. Do your worst; I shall not speak.” The creature’s eyes flamed, hurling a wave of hypnotic command through Seaton’s eyes and deep into his brain. Seaton’s very senses reeled for an instant under the impact of that awful mental force; but after a short, intensely bitter struggle he threw off the spell.

“That was close, fellow, but you didn’t quite ring the bell,” he said grimly, staring directly into those unholy eyes. “I may rate pretty low mentally, but I can’t be hypnotized into turning you loose. Also I can give you cards and spades in certain other lines which I am about to demonstrate. Being superman didn’t keep the rest of your men from going out in my ray, and being a superman isn’t going to save your brain. I am not depending upon my intellectual or mental force--I’ve got an ace in the hole in the shape of five thousand volts to apply to the most delicate centers of your brain. Start giving me what I want, and start quick, or I’ll tear it out of you.”