CHAPTER XIV
Interstellar Extermination
"I hate to leave this meeting--it's great stuff" remarked Seaton as heflashed down to the torpedo room at Fenor's command to send recallmessages to all outlying vessels, "but this machine isn't designed tolet me be in more than two places at once. Wish it were--maybe afterthis fracas is over we'll be able to incorporate something like thatinto it."
The chief operator touched a lever and the chair upon which he sat, withall its control panels, slid rapidly across the floor toward anapparently blank wall. As he reached it, a port opened a metal scrollappeared, containing the numbers and last reported positions of allFenachrone vessels outside the detector zone, and a vast magazine oftorpedoes came up through the floor, with an automatic loader to place atorpedo under the operator's hand the instant its predecessor had beenlaunched.
"Get Peg here quick, Mart--we need a stenographer. Till she gets here,see what you can do in getting those first numbers before they roll offthe end of the scroll. No, hold it--as you were! I've got controlsenough to put the whole thing on a recorder, so we can study it at ourleisure."
Haste was indeed necessary for the operator worked with uncannyquickness of hand. One fleeting glance at the scroll, a lightningadjustment of dials in the torpedo, a touch upon a tiny button, and amessenger was upon its way. But quick as he was, Seaton's flying fingerskept up with him, and before each torpedo disappeared through the ethergate there was fastened upon it a fifth-order tracer ray that wouldnever leave it until the force had been disconnected at the giganticcontrol board of the Norlaminian projector. One flying minute passedduring which seventy torpedoes had been launched, before Seaton spoke.
"Wonder how many ships they've got out, anyway? Didn't get any idea fromthe brain-record. Anyway, Rovol, it might be a sound idea for you toinstall me some more tracer rays on this board, I've got only a coupleof hundred, and that may not be enough--and I've got both hands full."
Rovol seated himself beside the younger man, like one organist joininganother at the console of a tremendous organ. Seaton's nimble fingerswould flash here and there, depressing keys and manipulating controlsuntil he had exactly the required combination of forces centered uponthe torpedo next to issue. He then would press a tiny switch and upon apanel full of red-topped, numbered plungers; the one next in serieswould drive home, transferring to itself the assembled beam andreleasing the keys for the assembly of other forces. Rovol's fingerswere also flying, but the forces he directed were seizing and shapingmaterial, as well as other forces. The Norlaminian physicist, set up oneintegral, stepped upon a pedal, and a new red-topped stop precisely likethe others and numbered in order, appeared as though by magic upon thepanel at Seaton's left hand. Rovol then leaned back in his seat--but thered-topped stops continued to appear, at the rate of exactly seventy perminute, upon the panel, which increased in width sufficiently toaccommodate another row as soon as a row was completed.
Rovol bent a quizzical glance upon the younger scientist, who blushed afiery red, rapidly set up another integral, then also leaned back in hisplace, while his face burned deeper than before.
"That is better, son. Never forget that it is a waste of energy to dothe same thing twice with your hands and that if you know precisely whatis to be done, you need not do it with your hands at all. Forces aretireless, and they neither slip nor make mistakes."
"Thanks, Rovol--I'll bet this lesson will make it stick in my mind,too."
"You are not thoroughly accustomed to using all your knowledge as yet.That will come with practice, however, and in a few weeks you will be asthoroughly at home with forces as I am."
"Hope so, Chief, but it looks like a tall order to me."
Finally the last torpedo was dispatched, the tube closed, and Seatonmoved the projection back up into the council chamber, finding it empty.
"Well, the conference is over--besides, we've got more important fish tofry. War has been declared, on both sides, and we've got to get busy.They've got nine hundred and six vessels out, and every one of them hasgot to go to Davy Jones' locker before we can sleep sound of nights. Myfirst job'll have to be untangling those nine oh six forces, gettinglines on each one of them, and seeing if I can project straight enoughto find the ships before the torpedoes overtake them. Mart, you andOrlon, the astronomer, had better dope out the last reported positionsof each of those vessels, so we'll know about where to hunt for them.Rovol, you might send out a detector screen a few light years indiameter, to be sure none of them slips a fast one over on us. Bystarting it right here and expanding it gradually, you can be sure thatno Fenachrone is inside it. Then we'll find a hunk of copper on thatplanet somewhere, plate it with some of their own 'X' metal, and blowthem into Kingdom Come."
"May I venture a suggestion?" asked Drasnik, the First of Psychology.
"Absolutely--nothing you've said so far has been idle chatter."
"You know, of course, that there are real scientists among theFenachrone; and you yourself have suggested that while they cannotpenetrate the zone of force nor use fifth-order rays, yet they mightknow about them in theory, might even be able to know when they werebeing used--detect them, in other words. Let us assume that such ascientist did detect your rays while you were there a short time ago.What would he do?"
"Search me.... I bite, what would he do?"
"He might do any one of several things, but if I read their naturearight, such a one would gather up a few men and women--as many as hecould--and migrate to another planet. For he would of course graspinstantly the fact that you had used fifth-order rays as carrier waves,and would be able to deduce your ability to destroy. He would alsorealize that in the brief time allowed him, he could not hope to learnto control those unknown forces; and with his terribly savage andvengeful nature and intense pride of race, he would take every possiblestep both to perpetuate his race and to obtain revenge. Am I right?"
* * * * *
Seaton swung to his controls savagely, and manipulated dials and keysrapidly.
"Right as rain, Drasnik. There--I've thrown around them a fifth-orderdetector screen, that they can't possibly neutralize. Anything that goesout through it will have a tracer slapped onto it. But say, it's beenhalf an hour since war was declared--suppose we're too late? Maybe someof them have got away already, and if one couple of 'em has beat us toit, we'll have the whole thing to do over again a thousand years or sofrom now. You've got the massive intellect, Drasnik. What can we doabout it? We can't throw a detector screen all over the Galaxy."
"I would suggest that since you have now guarded against further exodus,it is necessary to destroy the planet for a time. Rovol and hisco-workers have the other projector nearly done. Let them project me tothe world of the Fenachrone, where I shall conduct a thorough mentalinvestigation. By the time you have taken care of the raiding vessels, Ibelieve that I shall have been able to learn everything we need toknow."
"Fine--hop to it, and may there be lots of bubbles in your think-tank.Anybody else know of any other loop-holes I've left open?"
No other suggestions were made, and each man bent to his particulartask. Crane at the star-chart of the Galaxy and Orlon at the Fenachroneoperator's dispatching scroll rapidly worked out the approximatepositions of the Fenachrone vessels, and marked them with tiny greenlights in a vast model of the Galaxy which they had already causedforces to erect in the air of the projector's base. It was soon learnedthat a few of the ships were exploring quite close to their home system;so close that the torpedoes, with their unthinkable acceleration, wouldreach them within a few hours. Ascertaining the stop-number of thetracer ray upon the torpedo which should first reach its destination,Seaton followed it from the stop upon his panel out to the flyingmessenger. Now moving with a velocity many times that of light, it was,of course, invisible to direct vision; but to the light wavesheterodyned upon the fifth-order projector rays, it was as plainlyvisible as though it were stationary. Lining up the path of theprojectile accur
ately, he then projected himself forward in that exactline, with a flat detector-screen thrown out for half a light year uponeach side of him. Setting the controls, he flashed ahead, the detectorstopping him the instant that the invisible barrier encountered thepower-plant of the exploring raider. An oscillator sounded a shrill andrising note, and Seaton slowly shifted his controls until he stood inthe control room of the enemy vessel.
The Fenachrone ship, a thousand feet long and more than a hundred feetin diameter, was tearing through space toward a brilliant blue-whitestar. Her crew were at battle stations, her navigating officers peeringintently into the operating visiplates, all oblivious to the fact that astranger stood in their very midst.
"Well, here's the first one, gang," said Seaton, "I hate like sin to dothis--it's altogether too much like pushing baby chickens into a creekto suit me, but it's a dirty job that's got to be done."
As one man, Orlon and the other remaining Norlaminians leaped out of theprojector and floated to the ground below.
"I expected that," remarked Seaton. "They can't even think of a thinglike this without getting the blue willies--I don't blame them much, atthat. How about you, Carfon? You can be excused if you like."
"I want to watch those forces at work. I do not enjoy destruction, butlike you, I can make myself endure it."
Dunark, the fierce and bloodthirsty Osnomian prince, leaped to his feet,his eyes flashing.
"That's one thing I never could get about you, Dick!" he exclaimed inEnglish. "How a man with your brains can be so soft--so sloppilysentimental, gets clear past me. You remind me of a bowl of mush--youwade around in slush clear to your ears. Faugh! It's their lives orours! Tell me what button to push and I'll be only too glad to push it.I wanted to blow up Urvania and you wouldn't let me; I haven't killed anenemy for ages, and that's my trade. Cut out the sob-sister act and forCat's sake, let's get busy!"
"'At-a-boy, Dunark! That's tellin' 'im! But it's all right with me--I'llbe glad to let you do it. When I say 'shoot' throw in that plungerthere--number sixty-three."
Seaton manipulated controls until two electrodes of force were clampedin place, one at either end of the huge power-bar of the enemy vessel;adjusted rheostats and forces to send a disintegrating current throughthat massive copper cylinder, and gave the word. Dunark threw in theswitch with a vicious thrust, as though it were an actual sword which hewas thrusting through the vitals of one of the awesome crew, and thevery Universe exploded around them--exploded into one mad, searingcoruscation of blinding, dazzling light as the gigantic cylinder ofcopper resolved itself instantaneously into the pure energy from whichits metal originally had come into being.
Seaton and Dunark staggered back from the visiplates, blinded by theintolerable glare of light, and even Crane, working at his model of thegalaxy, blinked at the intensity of the radiation. Many minutes passedbefore the two men could see through their tortured eyes.
"Zowie! That was fierce!" exclaimed Seaton, when a slowly-returningperception of things other than dizzy spirals and balls of flame assuredhim that his eyesight was not permanently gone. "It's nothing but my ownfool carelessness, too. I should have known that with all the lightfrequencies in heterodyne for visibility, enough of that same stuffwould leak through to make strong medicine on these visiplates--for Iknew that that bar weighed a hundred tons and would liberate energyenough to volatilize our Earth and blow the by-products clear toArcturus. How're you coming, Dunark? See anything yet?"
"Coming along O. K. now, I guess--but I thought for a few minutes I'dbeen bloody well jobbed."
"I'll do better next time. I'll cut out the visible spectrum before theflash, and convert and reconvert the infra-red. That'll let us see whathappens, without the direct effect of the glare--won't burn our eyesout. What's my force number on the next nearest one, Mart?"
"Twenty-nine."
* * * * *
Seaton fastened a detector ray upon stop twenty-nine of the tracer-raypanel and followed its beam of force out to the torpedo hastening uponits way toward the next doomed cruiser. Flashing ahead in its line as hehad done before, he located the vessel and clamped the electrodes offorce upon the prodigious driving bar. Again, as Dunark drove home thedetonating switch, there was a frightful explosion and a wild glare offrenzied incandescence far out in that desolate region of interstellarspace; but this time the eyes behind the visiplates were not torn by thehigh frequencies, everything that happened was plainly visible. Oneinstant, there was an immense space-cruiser boring on through the voidupon its horrid mission, with its full complement of the hellishFenachrone performing their routine tasks. The next instant there was aflash of light extending for thousands upon untold thousands of miles inevery direction. That flare of light vanished as rapidly as it hadappeared--instantaneously--and throughout the entire neighborhood of theplace where the Fenachrone cruiser had been, there was nothing. Not aplate nor a girder, not a fragment, not the most minute particle nordroplet of disrupted metal nor of condensed vapor. So terrific, soincredibly and incomprehensibly vast were the forces liberated by thatmass of copper in its instantaneous decomposition, that every atom ofsubstance in that great vessel had gone with the power-bar--had beenresolved into radiations which would at some distant time and in somefar-off solitude unite with other radiations, again to form matter, andthus obey Nature's immutable cyclic law.
Thus vessel after vessel was destroyed of that haughty fleet which untilnow had never suffered a reverse and a little green light in thegalactic model winked out and flashed back in rosy pink as each menacewas removed. In a few hours the space surrounding the system of theFenachrone was clear; then progress slackened as it became harder andharder to locate each vessel as the distance between it and its torpedoincreased. Time after time Seaton would stab forward with his detectorscreen extended to its utmost possible spread, upon the most carefullyplotted prolongation of the line of the torpedo's flight, only to havethe projection flash far beyond the vessel's furthest possible positionwithout a reaction from the far-flung screen. Then he would go back tothe torpedo, make a minute alteration in his line, and again flashforward, only to miss it again. Finally, after thirty fruitless attemptsto bring his detector screen into contact with the nearest Fenachroneship, he gave up the attempt, rammed his battered, reeking briar full ofthe rank blend that was his favorite smoke, and strode up and down thefloor of the projector base--his eyes unseeing, his hands jammed deepinto his pockets, his jaw thrust forward, clamped upon the stem of hispipe, emitting dense, blue clouds of strangling vapor.
"The maestro is thinking, I perceive," remarked Dorothy, sweetly,entering the projector from an airboat. "You must all be blind, Iguess--you no hear the bell blow, what? I've come after you--it's timeto eat!"
"'At-a-girl, Dot--never miss the eats! Thanks," and Seaton put hisproblem away, with perceptible effort.
"This is going to be a job, Mart," he went back to it as soon as theywere seated in the airboat, flying toward "home." "I can nail them, withan increasing shift in azimuth, up to about thirty thousand light-years,but after that it gets awfully hard to get the right shift, and uparound a hundred thousand it seems to be darn near impossible--gets tobe pure guesswork. It can't be the controls, because they can hold apoint rigidly at five hundred thousand. Of course, we've got a prettyshort back-line to sight on, but the shift is more than a hundred timesas great as the possible error in backsight could account for, andthere's apparently nothing either regular or systematic about it that Ican figure out. But.... I don't know.... Space is curved in the fourthdimension, of course.... I wonder if ... hm--m--m." He fell silent andCrane made a rapid signal to Dorothy, who was opening her mouth to saysomething. She shut it, feeling ridiculous, and nothing was said untilthey had disembarked at their destination.
"Did you solve the puzzle, Dickie?"
"Don't think so--got myself in deeper than ever, I'm afraid," heanswered, then went on, thinking aloud rather than addressing any one inparticular:
"Sp
ace is curved in the fourth dimension, and fifth-order rays, withtheir velocity, may not follow the same path in that dimension thatlight does--in fact, they do not. If that path is to be plotted itrequires the solution of five simultaneous equations, each complete andgeneral, and each of the fifth degree, and also an exponential serieswith the unknown in the final exponent, before the fourth-dimensionalconcept can be derived ... hm--m--m. No use--we've struck something thatnot even Norlaminian theory can handle."
"You surprise me." Crane said. "I supposed that they had everythingworked out."
"Not on fifth-order stuff--it's new, you know. It begins to look asthough we'd have to stick around until every one of those torpedoes getssomewhere near its mother-ship. Hate to do it, too--it'll take sixmonths, at least, to reach the vessels clear across the Galaxy. I'll putit up to the gang at dinner--guess they'll let me talk business a coupleof minutes overtime, especially after they find out what I've got tosay."
He explained the phenomenon to an interested group of white-beardedscientists as they ate. Rovol, to Seaton's surprise, was elated andenthusiastic.
"Wonderful, my boy!" he breathed. "Marvelous! A perfect subject foryears after year of deepest study and the most profound thought.Perfect!"
"But what can we _do_ about it?" asked Seaton, exasperated. "We don'twant to hang around here twiddling our thumbs for a year waiting forthose torpedoes to get to wherever they're going!"
"We can do nothing but wait and study. That problem is one of splendiddifficulty, as you yourself realize. Its solution may well be a matterof lifetimes instead of years. But what is a year, more or less? You candestroy the Fenachrone eventually, so be content."
"But content is just exactly what I'm _not_!" declared Seaton,emphatically. "I want to do it, and do it _now_!"
"Perhaps I might volunteer a suggestion," said Caslor, diffidently; andas both Rovol and Seaton looked at him in surprise he went on: "Do notmisunderstand me. I do not mean concerning the mathematical problem indiscussion, about which I am entirely ignorant. But has it occurred toyou that those torpedoes are not intelligent entities, acting upon theirown volition and steering themselves as a result of their own orderedmental processes? No, they are mechanisms, in my own province, and Iventure to say with the utmost confidence that they are guided to theirdestinations by streamers of force of some nature, emanating from thevessels upon whose tracks they are."
"'Nobody Holme' is right!" exclaimed Seaton, tapping his temple with anadmonitory forefinger. "'Sright, ace--I thought maybe I'd quit using myhead for nothing but a hatrack now, but I guess that's all it's goodfor, yet. Thanks a lot for the idea--that gives me something I can getmy teeth into, and now that Rovol's got a problem to work on for thenext century or so, everybody's happy."
"How does that help matters?" asked Crane in wonder. "Of course it isnot surprising that no lines of force were visible, but I thought thatyour detectors screens would have found them if any such guiding beamshad been present."
"The ordinary bands, if of sufficient power, yes. But there are manypossible tracer rays not reactive to a screen such as I was using. Itwas very light and weak, designed for terrific velocity and forinstantaneous automatic arrest when in contact with the enormousforces of a power bar. It wouldn't react at all to the minute energyof the kind of beams they'd be most likely to use for that work.Caslor's certainly right. They're steering their torpedoes with tracerrays of almost infinitesimal power, amplified in the torpedoesthemselves--that's the way I'd do it myself. It may take a little whileto rig up the apparatus, but we'll get it--and then we'll run thosebirds ragged--so fast that their ankles'll catch fire--and won't needthe fourth-dimensional correction after all."
* * * * *
When the bell announced the beginning of the following period of labor,Seaton and his co-workers were in the Area of Experiment waiting, andthe work was soon under way.
"How are you going about this, Dick?" asked Crane.
"Going to examine the nose of one of those torpedoes first, and see whatit actually works on. Then build me a tracer detector that'll pick it upat high velocity. Beats the band, doesn't it, that neither Rovol nor I,who should have thought of it first, ever did see anything as plain asthat? That those things are following a ray?"
"That is easily explained, and is no more than natural. Both of you werenot only devoting all your thoughts to the curvature of space, but werealso too close to the problem--like the man in the woods, who cannot seethe forest because of the trees."
"Yeah, may be something in that, too. Plain enough, when Caslor showedit to us," said Seaton.
While he was talking, Seaton had projected himself into the torpedo hehad lined up so many times the previous day. With the automatic motionsset to hold him stationary in the tiny instrument compartment of thecraft, now traveling at a velocity many times that of light, he set towork. A glance located the detector mechanism, a set of short-wave coilsand amplifiers, and a brief study made plain to him the principlesunderlying the directional loop finders and the controls which guidedthe flying shell along the path of the tracer ray. He then built adetector structure of pure force immediately in front of the torpedo,and varied the frequency of his own apparatus until a meter upon one ofthe panels before his eyes informed him that his detector was in perfectresonance with the frequency of the tracer ray. He then moved ahead ofthe torpedo, along the guiding ray.
"Guiding it, eh?" Dunark congratulated him.
"Kinda. My directors out there aren't quite so hot, though. I'm a trifleshy on control somewhere, so much so that if I put on anywhere near fullvelocity, I lose the ray. Think I can clear that up with a littleexperimenting, though."
He fingered controls lightly, depressed a few more keys, and set onevernier, already at a ratio of a million to one, down to ten million. Hethen stepped up his velocity, and found that the guides worked well upto a speed much greater than any ever reached by Fenachrone vessels ortorpedoes, but failed utterly to hold the ray at anything approachingthe full velocity possible to his fifth-order projector. After hours anddays of work and study--in the course of which hundreds of theFenachrone vessels were destroyed--after employing all the resources ofhis mind, now stored with the knowledge of rays accumulated by hundredsof generations of highly-trained research specialists in rays, he becameconvinced that it was an inherent impossibility to trace any ether wavewith the velocity he desired.
"Can't be done, I guess, Mart," he confessed, ruefully. "You see, itworks fine up to a certain point; but beyond that, nothing doing. I'vejust found out why--and in so doing, I think I've made a contributionto science. At velocities well below that of light, light-waves areshifted a minute amount, you know. At the velocity of light, and upto a velocity not even approached by the Fenachrone vessels on theirlongest trips, the distortion is still not serious--no matter how fastwe want to travel in the _Skylark_, I think I can guarantee that wewill still be able to see things. That is to be expected from thegenerally-accepted idea that the apparent velocity of any ethervibration is independent of the velocity of either source or receiver.However, that relationship fails at velocities far below that offifth-order rays. At only a very small fraction of that speed thetracers I am following are so badly distorted that they disappearaltogether, and I have to distort them backwards. That wouldn't be toobad, but when I get up to about one per cent of the velocity I want touse, I can't calculate a force that will operate to distort them backinto recognizable wave-forms. That's another problem for Rovol to chewon, for another hundred years."
"That will, of course, slow up the work of clearing the Galaxy of theFenachrone, but at the same time I see nothing about which to bealarmed," Crane replied. "You are working very much faster than youcould have done by waiting for the torpedoes to arrive. The presentcondition is very satisfactory, I should say," and he waved his hand atthe galactic model, in nearly three-fourths of whose volume the greenlights had been replaced by pink ones.
"Yeah, pretty fair as far as t
hat goes--we'll clean up in ten days orso--but I hate to be licked. Well, I might as well quit sobbing and getbusy!"
In due time the nine hundred and sixth Fenachrone vessel was checked offon the model, and the two Terrestrials went in search of Drasnik, whomthey found in his study, summing up and analyzing a mass of data, facts,and ideas which were being projected in the air around him.
"Well, our first job's done," Seaton stated. "What do you know that youfeel like passing around?"
"My investigation is practically complete," replied the First ofPsychology, gravely. "I have explored many Fenachrone minds, and withoutexception I have found them chambers of horror of a kind unimaginable toone of us. However, you are not interested in their psychology, but infacts bearing upon your problem. While such facts were scarce, I diddiscover a few interesting items. I spied upon them in public and intheir most private haunts. I analyzed them individually andcollectively, and from the few known facts and from the great deal ofguesswork and conjecture there available to me, I have formulated atheory. I shall first give you the known facts. Their scientists cannotdirect nor control any ray not propagated through ether, but they candetect one such frequency or band of frequencies which they call'infra-rays' and which are probably the fifth-order rays, since they liein the first level below the ether. The detector proper is a type oflamp, which gives a blue light at the ordinary intensity of such rays aswould come from space or from an ordinary power plant, but gives a redlight under strong excitation."
"Uh-huh, I get that O. K.," said Seaton. "Rovol'sgreat-great-great-grandfather had 'em--I know all about 'em," Seatonencouraged Drasnik, who had paused, with a questioning glance. "I knowexactly how and why such a detector works. We gave 'em an alarm, allright. Even though we were working on a tight beam from here to there,our secondary projector there was radiating enough to affect every suchdetector within a thousand miles."
* * * * *
Drasnik continued: "Another significant fact is that a great manypersons--I learned of some five hundred, and there were probably manymore--have disappeared without explanation and without leaving a trace;and it seems that they disappeared very shortly after our communicationwas delivered. One of these was Fenor, the Emperor. His family remain,however, and his son is not only ruling in his stead, but is carryingout his father's policies. The other disappearances are all alike andare peculiar in certain respects. First, every man who vanished belongedto the Party of Postponement--the minority party of the Fenachrone, whobelieve that the time for the Conquest has not yet come. Second, everyone of them was a leader in thought in some field of usefulness, andevery such field is represented by at least one disappearance--even thearmy, as General Fenimol, the Commander-in-Chief, and his whole family,are among the absentees. Third, and most remarkable, each suchdisappearance included an entire family, clear down to children andgrand-children, however young. Another fact is that the FenachroneDepartment of Navigation keeps a very close check upon all vessels,particularly vessels capable of navigating outer space. Every vesselbuilt must be registered, and its location is always known from itsindividual tracer ray. No Fenachrone vessel is missing."
"I also sifted a mass of gossip and conjecture, some of which may bearupon the subject. One belief is that all the persons were put to deathby Fenor's secret service, and that the Emperor was assassinated inrevenge. The most widespread belief, however, is that they have fled.Some hold that they are in hiding in some remote shelter in the jungle,arguing that the rigid registration of all vessels renders a journey ofany great length impossible and that the detector screens would havegiven warning of any vessel leaving the planet. Others think thatpersons as powerful as Fenimol and Ravindau could have built any vesselthey chose with neither the knowledge nor consent of the Department ofNavigation, or that they could have stolen a Navy vessel, destroying itsrecords; and that Ravindau certainly could have so neutralized thescreens that they would have given no alarm. These believe that theabsent ones have migrated to some other solar system or to some otherplanet of the same sun. One old general loudly gave it as his opinionthat the cowardly traitors had probably fled clear out of the Galaxy,and that it would be a good thing to send the rest of the Party ofPostponement after them. There, in brief, are the salient points of myinvestigation in so far as it concerns your immediate problem."
"A good many straws pointing this way and that," commented Seaton."However, we know that the 'postponers' are just as rabid on the idea ofconquering the Universe as the others are--only they are a lot morecautious and won't take even a gambler's chance of a defeat. But you'veformed a theory--what is it, Drasnik?"
"From my analysis of these facts and conjectures, in conjunction withcertain purely psychological indices which we need not take time to gointo now, I am certain that they have left their solar system, probablyin an immense vessel built a long time ago and held in readiness forjust such an emergency. I am not certain of their destination, but it ismy opinion that they have left this Galaxy, and are planning uponstarting anew upon some suitable planet in some other Galaxy, fromwhich, at some future date, the Conquest of the Universe shall proceedas it was originally planned."
"Great balls of fire!" blurted Seaton. "They couldn't--not in a millionyears!" He thought a moment, then continued more slowly: "But theycould--and, with their dispositions, they probably would. You're onehundred per cent. right, Drasnik. We've got a real job of hunting on ourhands now. So-long, and thanks a lot."
Back in the projector Seaton prowled about in brown abstraction, hisvillainous pipe poisoning the circumambient air, while Crane sat, quietand self-possessed as always, waiting for the nimble brain of his friendto find a way over, around, or through the obstacle confronting them.
"Got it, Mart!" Seaton yelled, darting to the board and setting up oneintegral after another. "If they did leave the planet in a ship, we'llbe able to watch them go--and we'll see what they did, anyway, no matterwhat it was!"
"How? They've been gone almost a month already," protested Crane.
"We know within half an hour the exact time of their departure. We'llsimply go out the distance light has traveled since that time, gather inthe rays given off, amplify them a few billion times, and take a look atwhatever went on."
"But we have no idea of what region of the planet to study, or whetherit was night or day at the point of departure when they left."
"We'll get the council room, and trace events from there. Day or nightmakes no difference--we'll have to use infra-red anyway, because of thefog, and that's almost as good at night as in the daytime. There is nosuch thing as absolute darkness upon any planet, anyway, and we've gotpower enough to make anything visible that happened there, night or day.Mart, I've got power enough here to see and to photograph the actualconstruction of the pyramids of Egypt in that same way--and they werebuilt thousands of years ago!"
"Heavens, what astounding possibilities!" breathed Crane. "Why, youcould...."
"Yeah, I could do a lot of things," Seaton interrupted him rudely, "butright now we've got other fish to fry. I've just got the city wevisited, at about the time we were there. General Fenimol, whodisappeared, must be in the council room down here right now. I'llretard our projection, so that time will apparently pass more quickly,and we'll duck down there and see what actually did happen. I canheterodyne, combine, and recombine just as though we were watching theactual scene--it's more complicated, of course, since I have to followit and amplify it too, but it works out all right."
"This is unbelievable, Dick. Think of actually seeing something thatreally happened in the past!"
"Yeah, it's kinda strong, all right. As Dot would say, it's just tooperfectly darn outrageous. But we're doing it, ain't we? I know justhow, and why. When we get some time I'll shoot the method into yourbrain. Well, here we are!"
* * * * *
Peering into the visiplates, the two men were poised above the immensecentral cone of the capital city of the Fenachrone
. Viewing withinfra-red light as they were, the fog presented no obstacle and theindescribable beauty of the city of concentric rings and the wonderfullyluxuriant jungle growth were clearly visible. They plunged down into thecouncil chamber, and saw Fenor, Ravindau, and Fenimol deep inconversation.
"With all the other feats of skill and sorcery you have accomplished,why don't you reconstruct their speech, also?" asked Crane, with achallenging glance.
"Well, old Doubting Thomas, it might not be absolutely impossible, atthat. It would mean two projectors, however, due to the difference inspeed of sound-waves and light-waves. Theoretically, sound-waves alsoextend to an infinite distance, but I don't believe that any possibledetector and amplifier could reconstruct a voice more than an hour or soafter it had spoken. It might, though--we'll have to try it some time,and see. You're fairly good at lip-reading, as I remember it. Get asmuch of it as you can, will you?"
As though they were watching the scene itself as it happened--which, ina sense, they were--they saw everything that had occurred. They sawFenor die, saw the general's family board the airboat, saw the orderlyembarkation of Ravindau's organization. Finally they saw the stupendoustake-off of the first inter-galactic cruiser, and with that take-off,Seaton went into action. Faster and faster he drove that fifth-orderbeam along the track of the fugitive, until a speed was attained beyondwhich his detecting converters could not hold the ether-rays they werefollowing. For many minutes Seaton stared intently into the visiplate,plotting lines and calculating forces, then he swung around to Crane.
"Well, Mart, noble old bean, solving the disappearances was easier thanI thought it would be; but the situation as regards wiping out the lastof the Fenachrone is getting no better, fast."
"I glean from the instruments that they are heading straight out intospace away from the Galaxy, and I assume that they are using theirutmost acceleration?"
"I'll say they're traveling! They're out in absolute space, you know,with nothing in the way and with no intention of reversing their poweror slowing down--they must've had absolute top acceleration on everyminute since they left. Anyway, they're so far out already that Icouldn't hold even a detector on them, let alone a force that I cancontrol. Well, let's snap into it, fellow--on our way!"
"Just a minute, Dick. Take it easy, what are your plans?"
"Plans! Why worry about plans? Blow up that planet before any more of'em get away, and then chase that boat clear to Andromeda, if necessary.Let's go!"
"Calm down and be reasonable--you are getting hysterical again. Theyhave a maximum acceleration of five times the velocity of light. So havewe, exactly, since we adopted their own drive. Now if our accelerationis the same as theirs, and they have a month's start, how long will ittake us to catch them?"
"Right again. Mart--I sure was going off half-cocked again," Seatonconceded ruefully, after a moment's thought. "They'd always be going amillion or so times as fast as we would be, and getting further ahead ofus in geometrical ratio. What's your idea?"
"I agree with you that the time has come to destroy the planet ofFenachrone. As for pursuing that vessel through intergalactic space,that is your problem. You must figure out some method of increasing ouracceleration. Highly efficient as is this system of propulsion, it seemsto me that the knowledge of the Norlaminians should be able to improveit in some detail. Even a slight increase in acceleration would enableus to overtake them eventually."
"Hm--m--m." Seaton, no longer impetuous, was thinking deeply. "How farare we apt to have to go?"
"Until we get close enough to them to use your rays--say half a millionlight-years."
"But surely they'll stop, some time?"
"Of course, but not necessarily for many years. They are powered andprovisioned for a hundred years, you remember, and are going to 'adistant galaxy.' Such a one as Ravindau would not have specified a_distant_ Galaxy idly, and the very closest Galaxies are so far awaythat even the Fenachrone astronomers, with their reflecting mirrors fivemiles in diameter, could form only the very roughest approximations ofthe true distances."
"Our astronomers are all wet in their guesses, then?"
"Their estimates are, without exception, far below the true values. Theyare not even of the correct order of magnitude.'"
"Well, then, let's mop up on that planet. Then we'll go places and dothings."
Seaton had already located the magazines in which the power bars of theFenachrone war-vessels were stored, and it was a short task to erect asecondary projector of force in the Fenachrone atmosphere. Working outof that projector, beams of force seized one of the immense cylinders ofplated copper and at Seaton's direction transported it rapidly to one ofthe poles of the planet, where electrodes of force were clamped upon it.In a similar fashion seventeen more of the frightful bombs were placed,equidistant over the surface of the world of the Fenachrone, so thatwhen they were simultaneously exploded, the downward forces would becertain to meet sufficient resistance to assure complete demolition ofthe entire globe. Everything in readiness, Seaton's hand went to theplunger switch and closed upon it. Then, his face white and wet, hedropped his hand.
"No use, Mart--I can't do it. It pulls my cork. I know darn well youcan't either--I'll yell for help."
"Have you got it on the infra-red?" asked Dunark calmly, as he shot upinto the projector in reply to Seaton's call. "I want to see this, allof it."
"It's on--you're welcome to it," and, as the Terrestrials turned away,the whole projector base was illuminated by a flare of intense, thoughsubdued light. For several minutes Dunark stared into the visiplate,savage satisfaction in every line of his fierce green face as hesurveyed the havoc wrought by those eighteen enormous charges ofincredible explosive.
"A nice job of clean-up, Dick," the Osnomian prince reported, turningaway from the visiplate. "It made a sun of it--the original sun is nowquite a splendid double star. Everything was volatized, clear out, farbeyond their outermost screen."
"It had to be done, of course--it was either them or else all the restof the Universe," Season said, jerkily. "However, even that fact doesn'tmake it go down easy. Well, we're done with this projector. From now onit's strictly up to us and _Skylark Three_. Let's beat it over there andsee if they've got her done yet--they were due to finish up today, youknow."
* * * * *
It was a silent group who embarked in the little airboat. Half way totheir destination, however, Seaton came out of his blue mood with ayell.
"Mart, I've got it! We can give the _Lark_ a lot more acceleration thanthey are getting--and won't need the assistance of all the minds ofNorlamin, either."
"How?"
"By using one of the very heavy metals for fuel. The intensity of thepower liberated is a function of atomic weight, or atomic number, anddensity; but the fact of liberation depends upon atomic configuration--afact which you and I figured out long ago. However, our figuring didn'tgo far enough--it couldn't: we didn't know anything then. Copper happensto be the most efficient of the few metals which can be decomposed atall under ordinary excitation--that is, by using an ordinary coil, suchas we and the Fenachrone both use. But by using special exciters,sending out all the orders of rays necessary to initiate the disruptiveprocesses, we can use any metal we want to. Osnome has unlimitedquantities of the heaviest metals, including radium and uranium. Ofcourse we can't use radium and live--but we can and will use uranium,and that will give us something like four times the accelerationpossible with copper. Dunark, what say you snap over there and smelt usa cubic mile of uranium? No--hold it--I'll put a flock of forces on thejob. They'll do it quicker, and I'll make 'em deliver the goods. They'lldeliver 'em fast, too, believe us--we'll see to that with a ten-ton bar.The uranium bars'll be ready to load tomorrow, and we'll have enoughpower to chase those birds all the rest of our lives!"
Returning to the projector, Seaton actuated the complex system of forcesrequired for the smelting and transportation of the enormous amount ofmetal necessary, and as the three me
n again boarded their aerialconveyance, the power-bar in the projector behind them flared intoviolet incandescence under the load already put upon it by the newuranium mine in distant Osnome.
The _Skylark_ lay stretched out over two miles of country, exactly asthey had last seen her, but now, instead of being water-white, theten-thousand-foot cruiser of the void was one jointless, seamlessstructure of sparkling, transparent, purple inoson. Entering one of theopen doors, they stepped into an elevator and were whisked upward intothe control room, in which a dozen of the aged, white-bearded studentsof Norlamin were grouped about a banked and tiered mass of keyboards,which Seaton knew must be the operating mechanism of the extraordinarilycomplete fifth-order projector he had been promised.
"Ah, youngsters, you are just in time. Everything is complete and we arejust about to begin loading."
"Sorry, Rovol, but we'll have to make a couple of changes--have torebuild the exciter or build another one," and Seaton rapidly relatedwhat they had learned, and what they had decided to do.
"Of course, uranium is a much more efficient source of power," agreedRovol, "and you are to be congratulated for thinking of it. It perhapswould not have occurred to one of us, since the heavy metals of thathighly efficient group are very rare here. Building a new exciter foruranium is a simple task, and the converters for the corona-loss will,of course, require no change, since their action depends only upon thefrequency of the emitted losses, not upon their magnitude."
"Hadn't you suspected that some of the Fenachrone might be going to leadus a life-long chase?" asked Dunark curiously.
"We have not given the matter a thought, my son," the Chief of the Fivemade answer. "As your years increase, you will learn not to anticipatetrouble and worry. Had we thought and worried over the matter before thetime had arrived, you will note that it would have been pain wasted, forour young friend Seaton has avoided that difficulty in a truly scholarlyfashion."
"All set, then, Rovol?" asked Seaton, when the forces flying from theprojector had built the compound exciter which would make possible thedisruption of the atoms of uranium. "The metal, enough of it to fill allthe spare space in the hull, will be here tomorrow. You might give Craneand me the method of operating this projector, which I see is vastlymore complex even than the one in the Area of Experiment."
"It is the most complete thing ever seen upon Norlamin," replied Rovolwith a smile. "Each of us installed everything in it that he couldconceive of ever being of the slightest use, and since our combinedknowledge covers a large field, the projector is accordingly quitecomprehensive."
Multiple headsets were donned, and from each of the Norlaminian brainsthere poured into the minds of the two Terrestrials a complete andminute knowledge of every possible application of the stupendousforce-control banked in all its massed intricacy before them.
"Well, that's some outfit!" exulted Seaton in pleased astonishment asthe instructions were concluded. "It can do anything but lay an egg--andI'm not a darn bit sure that we couldn't make it do that! Well, let'scall the girls and show them around this thing that's going to be theirhome for quite a while."
While they were waiting, Dunark led Seaton aside.
"Dick, will you need me on this trip?" he asked. "Of course I knew therewas something on your mind when you didn't send me home when you letUrvan, Carfon and the others go back."
"No, we're going it alone--unless you want to come along. I did want youto stick around until I got to a good chance to talk to you alone--nowwill be a good a time as any. You and I have traded brains, and besides,we've been through quite a lot of grief together, here and there--I wantto apologize to you for not passing along to you all this stuff I'vebeen getting here. In fact, I really wish I didn't have to have itmyself. Get me?"
"Got you? I'm 'way ahead of you! Don't want it, not any part ofit--that's why I've stayed away from any chance of learning any of it,and the one reason why I am going back home instead of going with you. Ihave just brains enough to realize that neither I nor any other man ofmy race should have it. By the time we grow up to it naturally we shallbe able to handle it, but not until then."
The two brain brothers grasped hands strongly, and Dunark continued in alighter vein: "It takes all kinds of people to make a world, youknow--and all kinds of races, except the Fenachrone, to make a Universe.With Mardonale gone, the evolution of Osnome shall progress rapidly, andwhile we may not reach the Ultimate Goal, I have learned enough from youalready to speed up our progress considerably."
"Well, that's that. Had to get it off my chest, although I knew you'dget the idea all right. Here are the girls--Sitar too. We'll show 'emaround."
* * * * *
Seaton's first thought was for the very brain of the ship--the preciouslens of neutronium in its thin envelope of the eternal jewel--withoutwhich the beam of fifth-order rays could not be directed. He found it aquarter of a mile back from the needle-sharp prow, exactly in thelongitudinal axis of the hull, protected from any possible damage bybulkhead after massive bulkhead of impregnable inoson. Satisfied uponthat point, he went in search of the others, who were exploring theirvast new space-ship.
Huge as she was, there was no waste space--her design was as compact asthat of a fine radio set. The living quarters were grouped closely aboutthe central compartment, which housed the power plants, the many raygenerators and projectors, and the myriads of controls of the marvelousmechanism for the projection and direction of fifth-order rays. Severallarge compartments were devoted to the machinery which automaticallyserviced the vessel--refrigerators, heaters, generators and purifiersfor water and air, and the numberless other mechanisms which would makethe cruiser a comfortable and secure home, as well as an invinciblebattleship, in the heatless, lightless, airless, matterless waste ofillimitable, inter-galactic space. Many compartments were for thestorage of food-supplies, and these were even then being filled byforces under the able direction of the first of Chemistry.
"All the comforts of home, even to the labels," Seaton grinned, as heread "Dole No. 1" upon cans of pineapple which had never been withinthousands of light-years of the Hawaiian Islands, and saw quarter afterquarter of fresh meat going into the freezer room from a planet uponwhich no animal other than man had existed for many thousands of years.Nearly all of the remaining millions of cubic feet of space were for thestorage of uranium for power, a few rooms already having been filledwith ingot inoson for repairs. Between the many bulkheads that dividedthe ship into numberless airtight sections, and between the manyconcentric skins of purple metal that rendered the vessel space-worthyand sound, even though slabs many feet thick were to be shown off in anydirection--in every nook and cranny could be stored the metal to keepthose voracious generators full-fed, no matter how long or how severethe demand for power. Every room was connected through a series oftubular tunnels, along which force-propelled cars or elevators slidsmoothly--tubes whose walls fell together into air-tight seals at anypoint, in case of a rupture.
As they made their way back to the great control-room room of thevessel, they saw something that because of its small size and cleartransparency they had not previously seen. Below that room, not too nearthe outer skin, in a specially-built spherical launching space, therewas _Skylark Two_, completely equipped and ready for an interstellarjourney on her own account!
"Why, hello, little stranger!" Margaret called. "Rovol, that was a kindthought on your part. Home wouldn't quite be home without our old_Skylark_, would it, Martin?"
"A practical thought, as well as a kind one," Crane responded. "Weundoubtedly will have occasion to visit places altogether too small forthe really enormous bulk of this vessel."
"Yes, and whoever heard of a sea-going ship without a small boat?" putin irrepressible Dorothy. "She's just too perfectly kippy for words,sitting up there, isn't she?"