His head reeled and rocked. He staggeredto his feet and stood there swaying dully. A vivid light, brighterthan the sunshine, played upon him from the flagship of the fleetwhich now was helpless to defend its nation. Thorn's befogged brainstirred dazedly as the message came.
"Com-Pub fleet on way. Seventh Combat-Squadron wiped out. Nationdefenseless. You are only hope. For God's sake try something.Anything."
Thorn roused himself by a terrific effort. He managed to ask aquestion by exhausted gestures in the Watch visual alphabet.
"Kreynborg took her to rocket-ship," came the answer. "She recoveredconsciousness before being carried inside."
And Thorn, reeling on his feet and unarmed and alone, turned and wentstaggering up a hillside toward the rocket-ship's position. He couldonly expect to be killed. He could not even hope for anything morethan to ensure that Sylva, also, die mercifully. Behind him he left anunarmed nation awaiting devastation, with a mighty air fleet speedingtoward it at six hundred miles an hour.
As he went, though, some strength came to him. The fury of his toilforced him to breathe deeply, cleansing his lungs of the stupefyinggas which, because it was visible as a vapor, had been carried in therocket-ship. A visible gas was, of course, more consistent with theearly pretense that the rocket-ship bore invaders from another planet.And Thorn became drenched with sweat, which aided in the excretion ofthe poisonous stuff. His brain cleared, and he recognized despair anddiscounted it and began to plan grimly to make the most of aninfinitesimal chance. The chance was simply that Kreynborg hadransacked his pockets and ignored a little forked stick.
* * * * *
Scrambling up a steep hillside with his face hardened into granite,Thorn drew that from his pocket again. Crossing a hill-top, hestripped off his coat.
He traveled at the highest speed he could maintain, though it seemedpainfully deliberate. An hour after he had started, he was picking upsmall round pebbles wherever he saw them in his path. By the time thetall, bulbous tower was in sight he had picked up probably sixty suchpebbles, but no more than ten of them remained in his pockets. They,though, were smooth and round and even, perhaps an inch in diameter,and all very nearly the same size. And he carried a club in his hand.
He went down the last slope openly. The television lenses on the towerwould have picked him out in any case, if Kreynborg had repaired thescreen. He went boldly up to the rocket-ship.
"Kreynborg!" he called. "Kreynborg!"
He felt himself being surveyed. A door came open. Kreynborg stoodchuckling at him with a pocket-gun in his hand.
"Ha! Just in time, my friend! I haff been fery busy. Der Com-Pub fleetis just due to pass in refiew abofe der welcoming United Nationscombat-squadrons. I haff been gifing them last-minute information andassurance that der domes of force are solid and can hold forefer. Ihaff a few minutes to spare, which I had intended to defote to derfair Sylva. But--what do you wish?"
"I'm offering you a bribe," said Thorn, his face a mask. "A billiondollars and immunity to cut off the outer dome of force."
Kreynborg grinned at him.
"It is too late. Besides being a traitor, I would be assassinatedinstantly. Also, I shall be Commissar for North America anyhow."
"Two billion," said Thorn without expression.
"No," said Kreynborg amusedly. "Throw away der club. I shall amusemyself with you, Thorn Hardt. You shall watch der progress of romancebetween me and Sylva. Throw away der club!"
The pocket-gun came up. Thorn threw away the club.
"What do you want, if two billion's not enough?"
"Amusement," said Kreynborg jovially. "I shall be bored in this innerdome, waiting for der air fleet to starfe. I wish amusement. And Ishall get it. Come inside!"
* * * * *
He backed away from the door, his gun trained on Thorn. And Thorn sawthat the continuous-fire stud was down. He walked composedly into thered room in which he had once awakened. Sylva gave a little choked cryat sight of him. She was standing, desperately defiant, on the otherside of the induction-screen area on the floor. There was a scorchedplace on the floor where Thorn had shorted that screen and the bar ofmetal had grown red-hot. Kreynborg threw the switch and motioned Thornto her.
"I do not bother to search you for weapons," he said dryly. "I did itso short a time ago. And you had only a club...."
Thorn walked stiffly beside Sylva. She put out a shaking hand andtouched him. Kreynborg threw the switch back again.
"Der screen is on," he chuckled. "Console each other, children. I amglad you came, Thorn Hardt. We watch der grand refiew of der Com-Pubfleet. Then I turn a little infention of mine upon you. It is aheat-ray of fery limited range. It will be my method of wooing derfair Sylva. When she sees you in torment, she kisses me sweetly forder prifilege of stopping der heat-ray. I count upon you, my friend,to plead with her to grant me der most extrafagant of concessions,when der heat-ray is searing der flesh from your bones. I feel thatshe is soft-hearted enough to oblige you. Yes?"
He touched a button and the repaired television-screen lighted up.All the dome of mountains and sky was visible in it. There weredancing motes in sight, which were aircraft.
"I haff remofed all metal-work from that side of der room," addedKreynborg comfortably, "so I can dare to turn my back. You cannotshort der induction-screen again. That was clefer. But you face ascientist, Thorn Hardt. You haff lost."
A sudden surge of flying craft appeared on the television screen. Thegrounded fleet of the United Nations was taking to the air again. Inthe narrow, two-mile strip between the two domes of force it swirledup and up.... Kreynborg frowned.
"Now, what is der idea of that?" he demanded. He moved closer to thescreen. The pocket-gun was left behind, five feet from hisfinger-tips. "Thorn Hardt, you will explain it!"
"They hope," said Thorn grimly, "your fleet can make gaps in the dometo shoot through. If so, they'll go out through those gaps and fight."
"Foolish!" said Kreynborg blandly. "Der only weapon we haff to use isder normal metabolism of der human system. Hunger!"
* * * * *
Thorn reached into his pocket. Kreynborg was regarding the screenabsorbedly. Through the haze of flying dots which was the UnitedNations fleet, a darkening spot to westward became visible. It drewnearer and grew larger. It was dense. It was huge. It was deadly. Itwas the Com-Pub battle-fleet, nearly equal to the imprisoned ships innumber. It swept up to view its helpless enemy. It came close, soevery man could see their only possible antagonists rendered impotent.
Such a maneuver was really necessary, when you think of it. TheCom-Pub fleet had encountered one combat-squadron of the UnitedNations fleet, and that one squadron, dying, had carried down threetimes its number of enemies. It was necessary to show the Com-Pubpersonnel the rest of their enemies imprisoned, in order to heartenthem for the butchery of civilians before them.
Kreynborg guffawed as the Com-Pub fleet made its mocking circuit ofthe invisible dome. And Thorn raised his head.
"Kreynborg!" he said grimly. "Look!"
There was something in his tone which made Kreynborg turn. And Thornheld a little forked stick in his hand.
"Turn off the induction-screen, or I kill you!"
Kreynborg looked at him and chuckled.
"It is bluff, my friend," he said dryly. "I haff seen many weapons. Iam a scientist! You play der game of poker. You try a bluff! But Ianswer you with der heat-ray!"
He moved his great bulk, and Thorn released his left hand. There was asudden crack on Kreynborg's side of the room. A pebble a little overan inch in diameter fell to the floor. Kreynborg wavered, and toppledand fell. Three times more, his face merciless, Thorn drew back hisarm, and three times Kreynborg's head jerked slightly. Then Thornfaced the panel on which the induction-screen switch was placed.Several times he thrust his hand through the screen and abruptly drewit back with pain, in an attempt to throw the switch. At last he wassuccessful, and now
he walked calmly across the room and bent over themotionless Kreynborg.
"Skull fractured," he said grimly. "All right, Sylva."
* * * * *
He went through the narrow doorway beyond, picking up the pocket-gunas he went. There was a noise of whining machinery. Now Thorn wasemptying pellets into the mechanism that controlled the dome of force.There was a crashing of glass. It stopped. There were blows andthumpings. That noise stopped too.
Thorn came back, his eyes glowing. He flung open the outer door of therocket-ship, and Sylva went to him.
He pointed.
Far away, the Fighting Force of the United Nations was swirlingupward. Like smoke from a campfire or winged ants from a tree-stump,they went up in a colossal, twisting spiral. Beyond the domes andabove