← Classic Science Fiction Books
Classic Science Fiction Books
Four Science Fiction Novellas - Harl Vincent
06:13:23
"Four Science Fiction Novellas" by Harl Vincent presents a captivating collection of tales that explore the boundaries of human experience in the cosmos. From Blaine's awakening on Jupiter's moon Io to the desperate struggle of space vagabonds on...
Loading summary
Transcript79 lines
- [00:01]
A
What's going on everyone? It's bluff here. And you know what's more American than America's 250th birthday? Supporting American owned companies like Spinquest, America's number one social casino with over a thousand games like Live Dealer, Blackjack and craps. They're offering new users a 30 coin package for just $10. Go to spinquest.com and sign up. Today. Spinquest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details. With the American Express Platinum card, you can access over $3,500 in annual value with benefits and eligible purchases across travel, entertainment and more. There's nothing like Platinum. Learn more@americanexpress.com Explore Platinum Enrollment Requirements monthly and other limits in terms of Apply
- [00:46]
B
when you're a maintenance engineer in a beverage manufacturing plant, you keep production lines
- [00:51]
A
moving and quality on track because there is no room for slowdowns. With Grainger's vast selection of high quality
- [00:58]
B
motors, sensors, belts and hard to find
- [01:01]
A
parts, you can get what you need fast and all in one place. So nothing gets in the way of getting the job done.
- [01:07]
B
Call 1-800-Grainger clickranger.com or just stop by Granger for the ones who get it done. Section 1 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org recording by Kirk Zigler Lake Placid, Florida Four science fiction novellas by Harold Vinson the Copper clad World Chapter 1 Into the Unknown Adrift in Space Blaine Carson worked frantically at the controls. His his jaw set in grim lines and his eyes narrowed to anxious slits as he peered into the diamond studded ebon of the heavens. A million miles astern, he knew the red disk of the planet Mars was receding rapidly into the blackness, and the RX8 was streaking into the outer void at a terrific pace. Out of control. Something had warned him when they left Earth, the Martian cargo of K metal was of enormous value and a direct invitation to piracy. Of course there was the attempt at secrecy, and the shippers had sent along those guards. His engineer, Tom Farley, was thoroughly reliable too, but this failure of the control rocket tubes missing their destination. As a result, there was something queer about it. Tommy, he called into the mike. Find anything yet? Well, something, the audiophone drawled after a moment. I'm coming up. What is it, Tom? He asked when the engineer's round face appeared at the head of the engine room companionway. Farley dropped his voice and his customary smile was gone. I found the stern rocket tube ignition jammed, so it's firing continuously, he said. And the others are all dead. Won't fire at all. That's why she doesn't swing to the controls. Can't you fix it? Lord man, we're headed out into the belt of Planetoids. We'll be wrecked. Nothing I can do, Blaine, without shutting down the atomic engines. Then we'd freeze to death and run out of oxygen. These ships ought to have a spare engine just to take care of the heating and air conditioning. I always said so. What happened to the ignition system? Tom Farley looked over his shoulder apprehensively. Dirty work, Blaine, he whispered. I'm sure of it. Tool marks on the breech of the stern tube. And there's one of those guards I don't like the looks of. Nonsense. The K metal people know they're men. They picked these three especially for the job. Who else could do it? There's only the five of us on board. There might be something in what Tommy said at that A thing like this couldn't just happen by itself. And come to think of it, one of those guards was a queer looking bird, dwarfed and hunchbacked, sort of, and with long dangling arms. It would be better to investigate. Get him up here, Tommy, Blaine said. The RX8 drove on and on through the uncharted wastes outside the orbit of Mars. None of the spaceships of the Inner Planets ever ventured out this far, and Blaine knew there was grave danger of colliding with some of the small bodies with which the Zone was infested. If one of those guards was the traitor, he was risking his own neck as well as theirs. Two of them entered the control room with Tom Farley, big husky fellows of stolid countenance and armed with regulation flame ray pistols and gas grenades. Where's the other? The dwarf Blaine asked, his suspicions mounting immediately. In his bunk, Tom replied with a meaning. Look, he said he'd be up in a few minutes. The pilot commander addressed the guards. Fellows, he said, I suppose you know we're in a serious fix. The ship is out of control and we've missed Mars, where your medal was to be delivered. We're speeding out into the unknown, out past the limits of space travel toward the orbits of Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, or God knows where. And my engineer thinks that one of your number has tampered with the machinery. Know anything about it? Blaine eyed them keenly. One of the guards. Mahoney flushed hotly. No, sir, he snapped. At least Kelly and meself had nothing to do with it. But we've been a suspicion in that little Antizo ever since we came out. It's a peculiar way he has about him. The devil you think he. An incisive voice from the doorway interrupted. Never mind what he thinks, Carson. I'll do the thinking from now on. At one man they turned to face the speaker. It was the guard Antaso, and he was clothed from neck to ankles in a garment of bright metallic stuff that shimmered with shifting colours like those of a soap bubble. A mask of similar stuff covered his face, and in each hand there was a weapon resembling a ray pistol but of strangely unfamiliar design. Mahoney shot from the hip and his stabbing ray splashed full on the hunchback's chest. But harmlessly, that lustrous garment was insulating armour. The traitorous guard should have been shrivelled to a cinder at the contact, and Tasso laughed evilly as his own weapons loosened strange and terrible energies. Tom Farley ducked and Blaine watched in horrified amazement as the crackling streamers of blue radiance from the dwarfs pistols found their marks. Mahoney and Kelly standing there, bathed for a brief instant in a horrid blue fire, tottering, swaying, their mouths opened wide in a last agonized effort to cry out. Tiny pinpoints of brilliant pyrotechnics flashing and exploding within the columns of blue fire. Then nothing. Where the two husky guards had stood, there was utter emptiness. Not even a shred of clothing remained. The air in the control room became heavy and acrid, and Tasso white faced and shaking, Blaine cried out in futile protest, my God, man, what have you done? What does this mean? And then, in a blaze of rage, he was on his feet. Murder was in his heart as he set himself for a crashing charge that would sweep the beast from his feet. His own flame pistol was missing. It was a case of killing this monster with his bare hands. Tom was circling over there, cursing horribly. One of them would get him. Strangely, Antaso had lowered the muzzles of his pistols. A terrific punch started from the floor, never reached its mark. Blaine saw a tiny puff of pinkish vapor that spurted from the bosom of that metallic garment. He was coughing and gasping. Helpless muscles refused to do his bidding. With a moan he dropped into the pilot's seat, knowing that Antaso's will compelled him. That gas had hypnotic powers. Mechanically, his fingers strayed to the controls and Tom good old Tommy. He was under the influence of the stuff, too, creeping there on hands and knees toward the engine room companionway. And Tazza was talking. We come now to the matter of instructions, he said. You, Farley, will assist me in restoring the ignition system to normal. You, Carson, will keep to the controls and will lay a course to Jupiter as soon as the control rocket tubes will respond. Understand? Tom growled reluctant assent from where he was crawling. Strange, this hypnotic gas. Blaine's mind functioned clearly enough, yet he was utterly at the mercy of this madman's will. A robot of flesh and blood. Jupiter. He exclaimed. Why, man, it's nearly a half billion miles from the sun. Not habitable, either. Antaso had removed his mask and now smiled with a superior smile. We'll reach it, he said. The RX8 is very fast, and it is not the planet itself we're bound for, but its second satellite, Eyo, your astronomers call this body. And it's a world sadly in need of this marvelous K Metal. But. But Enough. The hunchback snarled his rebuke in Blaine's face and turned to Tom. Come, Farley, he said, as if talking to a child. We must get to work. In a daze of conflicting motions, Blaine turned to gaze through the forward port. When the two had left the control room, the RX8 was accelerating rapidly under the steady discharge of gases from the stern rocket tube and had already reached the speed of 1,000 miles a second. If one of those tiny asteroids, even one no larger than a marble, should meet up with them, it would crash through the hull plates as if they were paper. His heart went cold at the thought. Oddly enough, he found himself wanting to make this trip with the demoniac Antaso. It was the effects of the pink gas. Even with the misshapen guard down there in the engine room, the power of his will was effective. The devil must be an Ionian, he thought. But how in the name of the Sky Lane Imps had he reached Earth? How had he wormed his way into the confidence of the K metal people? He must have been there several years, working to this very end. There was a tinkling crash on the starboard side amidships, a screaming swish as something slithered along the side and caromed off into the void. One of those little planetoids, probably no bigger than a pea, and luckily they had struck it. Glancingly, he wiped the sudden perspiration from his forehead. Pressure on the directive rocket controls brought no response. Would they never finish with that ignition system? A gleaming light fleck segregated itself from the mass of stars ahead. At first he thought he imagined it, but a second examination, this time through the telescope, convinced him it was growing larger, drawing nearer it was, and resolving itself into a well defined orb that was directly in their path. 1500 miles a second, the indicator read. Now they'd never know what happened when they struck. Tommy. He bellowed into the mike, are you fellows ever going to finish down there? There was no reply for a moment, and the blue white globe drove madly toward them. He consulted the chart. Pallas, an asteroid some 300 miles in diameter. Not very big as celestial bodies go, but big enough. Just one minute now. It was Tommy's voice, coming drearily, unnaturally through the audiophone. A minute. 90,000 miles. It seemed the asteroid was that close already. Antaso was in the control room then, and the effect of his mental dominance became more pronounced. Suddenly the dwarf let out a shriek of terror when he looked through the port and saw the brilliant body that now loomed so close. Blaine experienced a savage joy in the knowledge that the hunchback was mortally afraid. Lotze Laza, in his fear and tassel, lapsed into his own tongue. Then, remembering, he shouted, we're ready, Carson. Swing wide. The directive rockets answered to their controls. Now. Quick pressure on this, a swift pull on that, swinging the energy value to maximum brought results. The little vessel groaned and shivered under the strain as a full blast from the forward tubes retarded them. Her hull plates twisted and screeched as the steering tubes built volt energy in, swinging them from their course. They were thrown forward violently, though the deceleration compensators were working to the utmost. Pallas swung around in their field of vision, and there was a fleeting glimpse of sunlit spires, of mountains, shadowed valleys, and mysterious crevices from which clouds of steam and yellow vapor curled. Still, it seemed they must crash against one of those slender pinnacles. Nearer it came, like a flash, a dizzying blur now that drove directly in their straining faces. And then, abruptly it was gone, already thousands of miles astern. The danger was past. Miraculously, they had escaped, and Tasso laughed a hollow, mirthless cackle. His fingers shook crazily when he untwisted them from their grip on the port rail. Good work, my friend. Very good indeed, he jabbered, his chin quivering in nervous reaction. And now we carry on. On to IO Blaine Carson, almost wishing they had collided with the spire, set himself grimly to the task he was powerless to refuse. End of Section. Section 2 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harl Vincent the Copper clad World Chapter 2 the second satellite when eventually they swung into the orbit of Jupiter and headed toward the enormous red belted body, the two Earth men were heartily disgusted with the voyage and with themselves repeated doses of the pink gas. The ignominy of their utter subservience to the will of Phantasma had worn them down no less than had the hard work and loss of sleep. Both were in vile humor. They endured the triumphant chatter of their captor in bitter silence. Over there, my friends, he said, pointing. See, it's our destination. The Golden Crescent IO is something over a quarter million of your miles from the mother planet. See it? It is home, my friends. Home to me and for yourselves in the future, if the Zara spares your lives, lay your course to the body.
- [16:26]
A
Carson Forget whatever plans you have this weekend because you're staying at home and playing on spinquest, and there's never been a better time to sign up than right now. New users get $30 coin packs for just $10. All the table games you love, with hundreds of slot games and real cash Prizes. That's at spinquest.coms P I N Q U S T.com SpinQuest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spendquest.com for more details. With the American Express Platinum card, you can access over $3,500 in annual value with benefits and eligible purchases across travel, entertainment, and more. There's nothing like Platinum. Learn more@americanexpress.com Explore Platinum Enrollment Requirements Monthly and other limits in terms of Apply
- [17:13]
B
when you're a maintenance engineer in a beverage manufacturing plant, you keep production lines
- [17:18]
A
moving and quality on track because there is no room for slowdowns. With Grainger's vast selection of high quality
- [17:25]
B
motors, sensors, belts, and hard to find
- [17:28]
A
parts, you can get what you need fast and all in one place, so nothing gets in the way of getting the job done.
- [17:34]
B
Call 1-800-GRAINGER click granger.com or just stop
- [17:38]
A
by Granger for the ones who get
- [17:41]
B
it done, Blaine growled as he sighted through the telescope. Yet in spite of his fury, he could not overcome the feeling of excitement that came to him when the powerful glass brought the satellite near. This body was like nothing else in the heavens, and Tasso had called it the Golden Crescent. Rather, it was of gleaming coppery hue, and now, as they swung around, it was fully illuminated, a Brilliant sphere of unbroken contour, smoothly globular. There was not one projection or indentation to indicate the existence of land or sea, mountain or valley on its surface. It was like a ball of solid copper, scintillant there in the weak sunlight and the reflected light from its great mother planet. And Tassel laughed over his absorption. Looks peculiar to you, does it not? He asked. Rather different from any of the bodies you have visited. You are thinking. Blaine grunted wordless assent. The globe that was IO rushed to meet them, growing ever larger in the field of the telescope. Now it appeared that there were tiny seams in the smooth surface, a regular criss cross pattern of fine lines that looked like. Lord, yes, that was it. The body was constructed from an infinite number of copper plates, riveted or brazed together to form a perfect sphere. Why, the thing's made of copper. Blaine gasped. Copper plates? It is a man made world. Artificial. But where are the inhabitants? And Tasso laughed uproariously. Not man made, my friend, he corrected, but preserved by man for his own salvation. A dying world it was, and the cleverest scientists in the universe saved it and themselves from certain deaths. What you see is merely a shell of copper, the covering they constructed to retain an atmosphere and make continuation of life possible. Inside. Your people live inside that shell? Blaine was incredulous. What else? We must have air to breathe and warmth for our bodies. How else could we have retained was staggering. This revelation the young pilot could not conceive of a completely enclosed world with inhabitants forever shut off from the sun by day and from the beauties of the heavens by night. Yet here it was, drawing ever nearer, a colossal monument to the ingenuity and handiwork of a highly intelligent civilization who had laboured probably centuries, to preserve their kind. A titanic task. Who could imagine a sphere of metal more than 2400 miles in diameter, enclosing a world and its peoples? A copper clad world. They were coming in close now, and the gravitational pull of the body made itself felt. Blaine was busy with the controls, sending tremendous blasts from the forward rocket tubes to retard their speed for a safe landing. The incredibly smooth copper surface was just beneath them, stretching miles away to the horizon in all directions. The inductor compass was functioning. Evidently IO possessed as strong a magnetic field as did the inner planets, and Tasso now consulted a chart which he drew from his pocket and examined minutely the surface over which they were speeding. Here and there, curious designs were etched on the copper plates, and it was from these he determined their course. Obviously there was an entrance to this sealed in world. When they had proceeded some 2,000 miles in a north easterly direction and Tassel gave the order to reduce speed, off at the horizon there appeared a bulge in the copper surface, a round protuberance that resolved itself into a great dome shaped structure. As they drew nearer a full 200ft, it reared itself into the heavens, and Blaine saw a number of large circular hatches in its side the that evidently covered their airlocked entrances. You will land close by the dome, Carson and Tasso barked. And both of you will get into your moon suits. At his tone, Blaine saw red. He realized on the instant that the effect of the pink gas had worn off and that he was his own master once more. All the pent up emotions of the past few days were unleashed. If only he could get in one good punch, they might get away yet. There was plenty of K metal to replenish the fuel supply. He whirled suddenly, muscles tensed. He faced the grinning hunchback and was greeted by a breathtaking spurt of the pink gas. This time it was not merely a subjecting of his own will to that of the Master, but a complete hypnotism, a somnambulistic state as in a dream. He turned to the controls. Now it came to him that the dwarf no longer spoke. He worked his will entirely without words. His evil mind possessed fully the mind of his victim. For Blaine Carson, there was no further independent thinking. He was an automaton, a sleepwalker, like a detached and more or less disinterested observer. He saw that he had landed the ship. Then he noticed three dwarfs in bulky helmeted moon suits shuffling clumsily across the copper plates. Hazily, he knew he was with the others in an airlock. The hiss and the throbbing of pumps told him that under the great dome there was the latticework of a huge reflecting telescope. Strange pigmy figures scuttled here and there, working at curious machines. There was the constant purr of many motors, the gentle pulsation of floor plates beneath his feet. With the moon suit removed, he realized the atmosphere was foetid and stifling. A great pressure bore on his lungs, making breathing labored and difficult. And then they were in a lift that dropped into the depths of its shaft with dizzying speed and Pazzo's grin. Tom's eyes, dull and lifeless, floating there in the haze before his own. It was all a nightmare from which he must soon awaken. There followed a period of complete unconsciousness, of movement and his surroundings. Light. Light everywhere. A blue white radiance that beat upon his unseeing eyes with unrelenting ferocity. Stabbing pains bore into his very brain, pains that carried with him an unspoken and unintelligible command. Why couldn't they let him alone, leave him to die in peace? He knew he was on his feet, swaying. There were voices, strident and guttural. And then by some magic the veil was lifted. His brain cleared and he saw that he stood before a dais where a much bejewelled and resplendently clad woman sat curled in the luxurious cushions of a golden seat. Chalk white was her face and her lips crimson. Amazing eyes, cat's eyes, pupils red, flecked and glittering, stared out at him. The Zara and Tasso whispered, you will make obeisance. Mechanically Blaine dropped to his knees and touched his forehead to the floor. Tom Farley over there was doing the same, but Antaso stood erect with arms crossed over his chest and head thrown back. The eyes of the Zara swept him contemptuously from head to foot. All was not well between them. Blaine arose from his humiliating position at a sharp command from the hunchback. Tommy did likewise, and the two exchanged sheepish looks. The effects of the pink gas were wearing off once more. They were in a large hall, obviously the throne room of a palace. Men at arms lined the walls on either side of the daisy, and these were straight limbed giants with green bronzed skin and regular features, not at all like the deformed Ionian who had captured them and stolen the RX8. The Zara talked rapidly in throaty gutturals, her fierce gaze directed at Antaso and her brows drawn together in a scowl that could have but one meaning. She was displeased with the hunchback. Displeased and furiously angry. What was it all about? Hadn't he brought home the bacon, the K metal they were after? Blaine was nonplussed. Then Antaso replied to the woman who was obviously his queen. His voice rose in shrill disagreement and his scowl was as fierce as the Zara's threatening her. He was the nervy devil. He clenched his fists and raised his arms in an angry gesture, pacing the floor in his fury and thrusting out a pugnacious chin while he raved. This Zara woman rose higher in her cushions, and the look that flashed from those terrible eyes would have warned a less excited human, however justifiable his anger might be. But Antaso was in too deep to draw back. That was plain to see. Blaine held his breath in anticipation of an explosion. It came then that explosion, and in a way entirely unexpected and horrible to behold. The tiger woman uttered one fierce semblant like the hiss of a serpent, a terrifying sound that silenced the hunchback and brought him stiffly to attention, mouth open and eyes bulging with horror. One of those unbelievably white arms stretched forth, threateningly tense, and a jeweled finger leveled itself at the rash.
- [27:54]
A
Ionian Hanging out at the pool is great. Relaxing and playing Vegas style games on my phone at the same time. Drink in one hand and a blackjack in the other. It's all at spinquest. Over a thousand games, including your favorite slots and table games. Be cool with this summer special. New players get $30 coin packs for 10@Spinquest.com SpinQuest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details. If the world were like a sleep number mattress, everything would adapt for your comfort. Your coffee would never get cold, your flight would always be on time, and your mattress would always respond to you and your unique sleep needs. Sleep number mattresses are designed to respond to your body and shift with your changing life, helping you fall asleep faster and stay asleep longer. To experience a whole new world of comfort, visit a sleep number store or go to sleepnumber.com sleep number to a
- [28:54]
B
good life sleep from Geico subconscious news, I'm Tammy. Racing thoughts broadcasting from your brain.
- [29:00]
A
You think you live in a pretty safe place, but you just heard about a break in four miles away, which isn't close, but it isn't far either. You know our palpitations is on the scene.
- [29:08]
B
I sure am, Tammy.
- [29:09]
A
And I don't even know why I drove out here because as you know, you got customized renters insurance through geico, so your stuff is is covered.
- [29:15]
B
Oh well, that's great. Any sign of crime there, Art?
- [29:18]
A
Just some light littering, Tammy. But like they say, a little litter
- [29:21]
B
can lead to a lot.
- [29:22]
A
Wise words. It feels good to worry less. It feels good to Geico.
- [29:26]
B
From there it flashed an intangible something that leaped to bridge the distance with the speed of light. Something that screeched as it flew and crashed like breaking glass. When it struck Antasell's horrified face, in an instant he was on the floor screaming and writhing in mortal agony. The Zara watched with compressed lips and livid features as a host of black disk like things covered the squirming body, spinning madly as if driven by atomic energy and emitting a myriad high pitched tones like the angry buzzing of a swarm of bees and tasso's body shrivelled as the things hummed on in their devilish work. Soon there was but a tiny heap of clothing with the angry black disks whirling and singing their song of hate. And then, in a puff of thick yellow vapor, they were gone, their gruesome work completed. The odor of putrefaction lay heavy on the air. Blaine shuddered and a fit of nausea twisted his vitals. It served the devil right, of course, but it was a horrible way to go. These damned Ionians, even to their queen, were bloodthirsty creatures, and what devilish ingenuity they had displayed in their development of weapons. His eyes were drawn irresistibly to the flaming orbs of the Zara. She was actually smiling at him, this beautiful, heartless animal. Not a smile of derision, but one of deliberate allure. He felt the hot blood mount to his temples. A languid arm beckoned him to her side, and the amazing creature settled back in her cushions with the drowsy, contented motions of a lazy feline. Watch your step, tommy hissed. The warning was unnecessary. Blaine shook his head and backed away from the dais, an instinctive recoiling from a loathsome thing. The Zara saw and understood, and she went again into a black rage. She sat stiffly erect and called rapid orders to her men at arms. The Earthmen were surrounded instantly, their arms and legs pinioned by powerful hands, their feeble resistance overcome by the Bronze Giants as easily as if they had been children. Helpless and hopeless, they were borne from the room. This was the end of the story, Blaine thought. Why this Zorra woman had not made away with them at once was a mystery. Perhaps they were being reserved for an even more terrible fate than that of the Hunchback. They were being carried along a dim, lit passage now, and Tom was cursing his captors in a never ending stream of invective. A metal door opened and then clanked shut behind them. They were dumped unceremoniously on metal tables that resembled those of a hospital operating room on Earth. Woven bands, quickly adjusted by the Bronze Giants, held them fast. Blaine turned his head and saw that Tommy was still struggling against the inevitable. A gag had been placed in his mouth. That was why he had ceased reviling the Zara's servitors. The room was cluttered with elaborate and complicated mechanisms that Blaine could not recognize in the slightest detail, excepting that there were many banks of slender glass cylinders which bore some resemblance to the vacuum tubes used on the inner planets for radio communication and television. One of the Bronze Giants, he saw, was bringing a metal cap from which a cable extended to one of the strange machines. The cap was forced down over his head with a none too gentle pressure, and he could see no more. Then came a sharp buzz from the machine and a million stinging needles drove into his brain. There was a moment of fleeting visions, strange places he viewed, and strange creatures parading in a phantasmagoria of delirium before his aching eyes. Voices, harsh and guttural spoke in his drumming ears, voices that were dimly understandable, though uttered in the tongue spoken by Antaso and the Zara. Then came sudden and merciful unconsciousness. End of section 2. Section 3 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent the Copper clad World Chapter 3 Ellen Darr When Blaine Carson opened his eyes, it was to stare at the blue white radiance of an illuminated ceiling. He lay on a downy cot, and it seemed he had just recovered from a long illness, weak and sick. He turned his head listlessly to gaze at the ornate embossed designs on a wall of gleaming silvery metal. What place was this? His mind was wool gathering dim memories of unspeakable things struggled for mastery over a hazy consciousness. Suddenly, then, he remembered, and he sat up in his unfamiliar bed, senses acutely alert. Across the room he saw a figure hunched in a chair, a twisted man creature who was oddly like someone he had seen and Tasso. But this one had none of the other's ferocity as he returned Blaine's stare. Rather, there was a look of deep concern in his ugly face. He came immediately to the bedside and looked at Blaine solicitously. I see you have recovered, he said. It is good. Blaine stared and stared. This creature had spoken in the language of the Zara's subjects, yet he understood his every word. It must be a dream, this impossible thing that had happened. And where was Tom? Abruptly he found that he was talking rapidly in this tongue of an alien race. Yes, I've recovered, he said, and I'm amazed at what I find. How have I acquired this knowledge of your language? Where am I, and where is my friend? Can you enlighten me in these things? The other smiled. I can, Earthman, he replied. You have been taught our language while you slept, a thought transference process we use for educating the young. You are in the palace of the Zara, and your friend is safe in the next room. I may add that you are in high favour with Her Majesty. The wizened creature lowered his voice on the last words, and his knowing eyes spoke volumes in favor with that she devil. Blaine went cold at the thought. I want to see my friend, he said shortly later. My orders are to bring you to the Zara immediately. You are strong enough, and Pegrani obeys orders. No use to attempt a break now. Blaine was tempted to drive a fist into that ugly countenance and fight his way out of the place. But that would be suicide. He'd wait, get the lay of the land first, and then try to dope something out with Tommy. All right, Pigrani, he said. I'm ready to go before this Zara of yours. As he prepared for the audience, alien thoughts crowded one upon the other in his strangely enlightened mind. With the knowledge of the language had come knowledge of many things relative to the copper clad world. They'd given him a liberal education. Somehow he knew these stunted creatures like Antaso and Pigrani were known as Lota, and that while ruling the sealed in planet, their kind had originally come from Ganymede, the fifth satellite of Jupiter. Centuries had passed since the inhabitants of Europa and Ganymede had been forced to desert their aging worlds and settled on IO during other centuries, the widely different peoples had co operated in constructing the great copper enclosure in order to keep the new world alive and capable of supporting life. Then had come a century of bitter warfare in which the Llt were victorious. Intense hatred existed between the two races, he knew, and a hazy impression of mechanically imparted knowledge told him that few of the Europans remained alive. We are here, Carson, his guide announced when they stood before the square columns of an enormous portal. The scene in the throne room was vastly different than when he had first visited it. The Zara sat curled as before a golden bowl of incense burning at either side of the throne. The men at arms were absent, and instead there were dozens of had maidens, white skinned and seductive as their queen, reclining on luxurious cushions that were arranged in a semicircle before the dais. It was a scene of oriental splendor, a stage carefully set. Pograni knelt and touched his forehead to the floor, but Blaine held himself stiffly erect, looking straight into the eyes of the Zara. She smiled and extended her arm in that beckoning gesture. You may leave now, Pegrani, she said without deigning him a glance. Remain in the corridor till I send for you. There was a tense silence as the czar's gaze ineffably softened, now held Blaine's. Unconsciously, he was drawn to the steps of the dais. Unwillingly, yet inexorably, his lagging footsteps brought him to her side. Cool white fingers touched his arm, and he saw that the red flecks in the black of those white eyes were golden. Now, surely there was no harm in this woman, but he remembered Antaso. Carson, she purred. You are more than welcome to Lothnar, the land of my people and the ruling power of Antred. The body you call IO the freedom of the realm is yours for as long a time as you wish to remain. This was too good to be true. You. You mean, he stammered, that Antaso exceeded his authority in his act of piracy in bringing us here. The golden flecks flashed red and a cold note was manifest in the throaty voice. Antaso, she replied, was destroyed for his audacious actions. We needed this K metal of yours, Carson, and he was sent to Earth to get a quantity of the material by magnetic directional waves. Was he sent? We have no spaceships. His body disintegrated by my scientist for transmittal, and the atoms of his beastly form reassembled in their proper relation when he arrived there. But he threatened me when he returned. Successful, the possession of the K metal and his knowledge of its powers and uses had gone to his head. He demanded my hand in return for his work, demanded that he be permitted to mount the throne of Lodonar as my consort. Therefore I destroyed him. The hard eyes softened anew and and for his abominable treatment of you, I destroyed him, she concluded. Blaine fought off the spell of those gold flecked eyes. He looked away in sudden panic. This creature was not telling the truth. She was hiding something. A sinister motive lay beneath her smooth speech. My friend, he said abruptly. What of him? For your sake, my Carson, she purred. He too shall have the freedom of the realm for as long a time as is desired. The cool fingers crept along his arm, firm and compelling. Look at me, she whispered. He thought of the pink gas as his eyes were drawn irresistibly to hers. What he saw in those gold flecked depths sent a shiver of apprehension chasing down his spine. Savage devastating desire mingled with ill concealed rage at his coldness. This beautiful animal could turn like a flash and rend him limb from limb and would on the slightest provocation. A commotion in the corridor caused her to release him and sit bolt upright. Temporarily relieved, Blaine wheeled to face the portal. Tommy had broken loose. He heard his strident voice berating an unseen antagonist in the tongue of the Lota. Then they were in the room, Tommy struggling and arguing vociferously with one of the green bronze guards. The handmaidens had deserted their cushions and were milling about in affrighted confusion. The Zara's sibilant exclamation startled him into looking at her once more. The same cold fury that had greeted Antaso glinted icy hard in that grimly beautiful face. It was all over for poor Tommy, but the Zara reached upward and stroked a transparent rod that dangled above the throne, something he had not noticed before. A screaming, vibrant note smote the heavy air, a pulsation that beat at the ear drums with painful intensity. Silence fell as the awesome sound died away and echoed faintly from the huge columns that supported the arched ceiling. Tommy cooled off when he saw that Blaine was unharmed. Drekon. The Tsar's voice was a whiplash as she addressed the guard. You will leave my presence and report to your overman for punishment. Never again molest the earthmen. Begone again. This amazing woman curled in her cushions, and again she purred. Tommy watched in open mouthed astonishment as she smiled guilelessly at his friend. You may leave now, my Carson, she cooed. Farley is free to accompany you. Pograni will guide you and inform you regarding our customs and our people. You will learn much and then you shall return to Zeracleon. Blaine had fully expected that Tommy would die a horrible death before his eyes, and in his sudden relief bent low and kissed the cold white hand of the Zara. A foolish thing to do. She purred and snuggled into the cushions. Like the feline, she was a dangerous animal, claws drawn in now but ready to strike out razor sharp on a moment's notice. Pegrani led them along the corridor to a lift. The car shot upward with breathtaking speed. Say. Tommy was growling in English. What's the big idea you've got the old girl Gaga trying to vamp her into letting us off easy? Shut up. Blaine returned, irritated. I don't know where we stand any more than you do, but we're going to sit tight now and see what happens. No more rough stuff from you either. What, you're going to just stand around and take it? Whatever they hand us? Of course not. But the time isn't ripe yet. We'll have to wait till we know what it's all about. They were outside then, on the palace roof, and Pograni motioned them to a railed in Runway that circled its edge. High overhead was the Shadowy blackness of the copper shell that enclosed the satellite. Huge laced columns, line upon line of them, stretched off into the distance as far as the eye could follow. Enormous white metal supports that carried the immense weight of the covering which retained the dense and humid atmosphere. Myriads of tiny blue white suns there seemed to be stretching off between the columns, carried on thick cables and radiating the artificial daylight of the interior. Hot damp odours wafted across the roofthe odours of decayed vegetation. Most amazing of all were the dwellings in orderly rows like the columns, they were flat topped cylindrical things that reminded Blaine of nothing so much as the tanks of an oil refinery back home. And the space between was overgrown with dense tropical vegetation tangle and matted and shooting transparent tubular stems up to a height of a hundred feet or more, where they sprouted great spherical growths that looked like enormous sponges of a sickly pale green hue. These growths overran everything, climbed the columns and were lost in the shadows above the multitude of lights. The big sponge like blossoms expanded and contracted rhythmically, breathing they were like living things. Specially cultivated plant life to assist in maintaining the oxygen supply balance by decomposition of carbon dioxide. A marvellous artificial world. The streets and moving ways are in tunnels beneath the soil. Pograni was explaining. What lies before you is the city of Illindar, capital city of the Empire, and like all other cities of Antred, is self sustaining. The vegetation is inedible. All of our food is synthetic and highly concentrated. You were fed by intravenous injection while under the influence of the language machines. Our heat and power is obtained from the internal fires of Antrid and alas, these are being exhausted with great rapidity. Our shortage of power is becoming acute and again our peoples are facing extinction. That explained their need for the K metal. It came to blame in a flash that Antrid was in sore straits and that this expedition to Earth had more back of it than had been revealed. Even with the supply of K metal and Tasso had stolen, they could not carry on forever. A screaming object went hurtling through the blackness over their heads. Something a vehicle of enormous size with rows of lighted ports on the underside that roared its way under the roof of copper and was gone in an instant. One of our monorail cars, Pigrani told them. A complete system interconnects all cities and divisions. They are capable of circling the globe in a day of your time. Their familiarity with conditions on Earth was astonishing. Probably Antasl was but one of the many spies who had been sent to the inner Planets. Paigani discussed the speed in their own terms. Someone had crept up behind them, a slight olive skinned youth who touched Blaine softly on the shoulder. Po Grani did not see he was pointing into the distance and expounding on the merits of the monorail system. The youth touched a finger to his lips to enjoin silence and thrust a crumpled ball of metal foil into Blaine's hand before the pilot realized his intention. A message, undoubtedly some instinct or some slight sound, warned Pegrani as he turned on his heel just as the slender lad was slinking away. Black rage contorted his features, and Blaine saw him make a quick motion toward the inner folds of his jacket. Pig Granny. He shouted as he saw a glint of steel. Don't. But it was too late, and the lot paid him no attention anyway. One of those wicked ray pistols sent forth its crackling blue flame, and the youth stood there, bathed in the eerie blue light. Dazzling blasts of exploding atoms were seen within the flare. Then there was the nothingness into which Mahoney and Kelley had gone. Blaine shouted horrified and angry protest, and Tommy rushed into the mix with their guide, but the glowing ray pistol waved them back. Other guards, the big green bronze ones, were running in their direction. The message, Pigrani snapped. Give it to me. Quick as a flash, Blaine crumpled the foil more tightly, a hard little pellet now. He tossed it over the rail, far into the matted vegetation below. One might as well hunt for a needle in a haystack as for that tiny ball. But Pigrani would not forget. He'd report to the Zarathey. Were in for it now. Section 4 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harl Vincent the Copper Clad World Chapter four Before the Council, Pograni lost no time in reporting the incident to the Zara. The Earthmen were hustled to the throne room of the palace, where the Leopard woman sat in conference with her advisers. An ominous silence greeted their entrance. Ugly faces leered at them from the long table. What is it, Pagani? The Zara's chalky face went whiter still. The Rulans, your Majesty. They have endeavoured to communicate with the prisoners. Did they succeed? Cleon's voice was terrible in its fury. They did not. I destroyed the messenger, and the message itself was lost in the jungle where Carson flung it. The Zara shot a fleeting glance in Blaine's direction and permitted herself the ghost of a smile. It is well, she breathed, but it must not happen again. Have Teodor brought to me. But Grani turned off to do her bidding, and Blaine turned uncertainly to follow. You will remain, Carson. You and Farley. The incisive voice of the leopard woman halted him in his tracks. Theodore was chief of the Roulans, it developed. There was but a handful of them in the realm, and they were the last survivors of the civilisation of Europa, descendants of those original brave souls who had settled on IO as a last resort in the effort to perpetuate their kind. He was a magnificent creature, this Theodore, tall and straight in his muscular leanness and with wide set grey eyes in the face of a Greek God. Olive skinned like the messenger he was, and with the high forehead of an intellectual, he swept the assemblage with a haughty gaze when he faced the Zara. Theodore, she snarled, it has come to my ears that a Roulan lad carried a message to one of my guests from Earth. What means this? I know nothing about it, your Majesty. Theodore gazed into the wicked eyes, unafraid. You lie. There is some treasonable scheme in which you had hoped to enlist their help. You will tell me the entire story here before the Council. There is nothing to tell. You will confess or I shall destroy every Roulan in the Tritu Ngaru. The Zara's words were clipped short with deadly emphasis. Teodore paled and his lips tightened in a grim line, but he stood his ground. I have nothing to confess, he said with a whistling indrawn breath. The leopard woman threw back her head and motioned to one of the green bronzed giants who guarded the entrance. There was a nervous stir around the council table. At her command, the guard drew back a heavy drape that hid an embrasure in the far wall. There, on a stubby pedestal was revealed a gleaming sphere of crystal, a huge polished ball that shimmered a ghastly green against a background of jet. Slowly in its depths a milky cloud took shape, swirling and pulsating like a living thing. Then it flashed into dazzling brilliance and the globe cleared to startling transparency. It was as if it did not exist.
- [54:41]
A
Hanging out at the pool is great. Relaxing and playing Vegas style games on my phone at the same time. Drink in one hand and a blackjack in the other. It's all at Spinquest. Over a thousand games, including your favorite slots and table games. Be cool with this summer special new players get 30 coin packs for 10@Spinquest.com Spin Quest is a Free to play Social Casino Void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [55:11]
B
Rather, they looked through an opening in the cosmos that carried their gaze to another distant point. It was a large open space that was revealed to their eyes a sort of public square where many of the olive skinned Roulins were coming and going to and from the entrances of the circular tank like structures that surrounded the area. They were greeting one another in solemn fashion as they passed and watched furtively the green Bronze guards who were everywhere. The sound of their low voiced conversations came clear and distinct from the depths of the Crystal Sphere. Your choice, Teodore. The Zara hissed. There is nothing. Nothing, I tell you. The Ruilan chief voice was panicky now. Cleon's snarling command was carried to those guards out there in the Tritu Ngaru. By some magic of the Crystal Sphere, as one man, they snapped to attention. With deadly accuracy they released the energy of their ray pistols. It was a shambles, that square of the Trittu Ngaru, a slaughter house. Agonized screams of the doomed Roulans rent the air of the Council chamber. They organized hastily and rushed again and again into the crackling blue flame of the disintegrating blasts of the guards fire. It was hopeless. Unarmed and unprotected, they were at the mercy of Cleon's minions. Sick and trembling, Blaine cried out against the massacre. He was seized instantly by two of the green Bronze guards who had been watching his every move. Tommy too was in their clutches once more, fighting valiant Lebott without avail. The sphere went blank and silent and the drape was returned to its place, still muttering disapproval. The members of the council gazed at their queen in alarm. There was no telling what this vile creature might do. The slaughter continues. Teodore, she gloated. Soon your handful of followers will be no more, and good riddance. Swaying drunkenly, eyes glazed with the horror of the thing, Teodor went raving mad. In one wild leap he was upon her, his fingers sinking into the white flesh of her throat. Woman or no woman, he'd have her life. But it was not to be. A quick move of the jewelled fingers was followed by a crashing report. Teodore staggered and drew back, spinning on his wheel to face them all with distended pain grazed eyes. Astonishment was there, and horror, but the fire of undying courage remained. His olive skin turned suddenly purple, then black from the poison dart that had exploded in his entrails. He collapsed in a still heap at the feet of the Zara. She stood there, a moment in the awful silence, caressing her bruised throat with fluttering fingers. She had faced death for one horrid instant and was obviously shaken. Then she recovered and flew into a rage. Out of my sight, all of you. She screamed out. I say the Earthmen are to be freed and Bagrani will conduct them to their quarters. Go now. The councilors made haste to comply, jostling one another in their anxiety to jam through the doorway. Blaine found himself released. He took one step toward Cleon, murderous hatred in his heart, but he recoiled from the expression in those red flecked eyes. They softened instantly and looked into his very soul, saw through and beyond him into some far place where relief and happiness might be attained. And then suddenly they were swimming in tears. The Zara dropped into a seat and buried her sleek, coifered head in outstretched arms, her shoulders shaking with sobs. An incomprehensible anomaly, this Queen of the Lota, a strange mixture of cruelty and tenderness, of cold hatred and the longing for love. A dual personality, hers susceptible to the deepest emotion or to utter lack of feeling as the mood might dictate. Blaine tiptoed softly from the room. They were in the corridor now, and Tommy was blowing off at a great rate. Even Pigrani was stunned and shaken. But Tommy raved. Forget it, blaine growled. Where do we go from here? He couldn't have explained his emotions then, even to himself. To our quarters, she said. Damn her. Tom Farley swore in picturesque English. And we. He wound up his expressive tirade. We are getting in deeper and deeper. We can't do a thing. Why in the devil doesn't she put us out of the way and get it over with? What's she keeping us around for anyway? Blaine was asking himself that very question. Po Grani regarded them with something of understanding in his beady eyes, but he was nervous and apprehensive and broke in on their conversation to urge them into action. The Zara must be obeyed. The corridor was deserted now, and their footsteps echoed hollowly from the bare metal walls. Pograni was ahead, leading the way, when Blaine was startled by an insistent tap on his shoulder. Another of the Roolans. It was repeating the gesture of the youth who had been killed on the roof, but this one had no message. He was after something else, telling them in pantomime to make a break for freedom and to follow him. Blaine caught Tommy's attention, and Pegrani, warned again by that sixth sense of his, turned his head with a bellow of rage. He whirled into action, ray pistol in hand. But Blaine was prepared for him this time. He wasn't going to witness another murder. Not now. Flinging Tom Farley aside, he he let loose a terrific jab that landed full on Pograni's mouth. The ray pistol cracked harmlessly, its deadly energy spreading itself in, searing the metal of the ceiling. Then he wrenched the weapon from the astonished lot and was boring in with body punches that quickly had the dwarf gasping for breath. These creatures knew nothing of fighting with their hands except in the fashion of clumsy wrestlers. The thud of hard fists against yielding flesh was a new and terrifying experience. Pegrani was game, though, and he flailed about with his powerful arms, endeavoring to get his opponent in his grasp. Side stepping to avoid one of his rushes, Blaine brought up a terrible uppercut that ended flush upon the Lot's jaw. His head snapped back and his knees gave way beneath him. Down he went in a flabby heap. Suddenly ashamed, the young pilot turned to the Rulan. Tom's eyes were shining. It was easy to see that he felt better about things now. I am a friend, the Rulan whispered in the Lot tongue, sent by one who would have conversation with you. It is of the highest importance, but we must make haste. Will you trust me? Blaine saw deep concern and sincerity in the fellow's blue eyes. What do you say, Tommy? He asked, looking to his friend for approval. I say let's go. He seems okay to me. Their new guide was familiar with the passages, and especially so with dark and little used stairways that connected the floors of the huge building. They soon reached the roof through a hatch that opened on a small penthouse which was in deep shadow and entirely hidden from the runways where the green bronze guards paced constantly. A slender cable dangled before them, and at its lower end they saw a basket like car which their guide bid them enter. When they had done so, he tugged on the cable, giving a rapid twitching signal. Suddenly they were soaring up into the blackness above the lights of Antrid. The swift journey ended in a tiny enclosed vehicle where another Roulan operated the cable drum which had made the trip possible. The car was unlighted save for the faint glow of a headlamp, and it was not until the lower door was closed that they were permitted a view of the interior of the strange vehicle and had a good look at the two Roulans. Now the one who had brought them said, I can explain. I am Theidas, son of Teodore. My companion is Dantus, son of Dantor, the greatest scientist in all Antred. We are taking you to Dantor, who has knowledge of the mad plans of the Lota and is in need of your help in thwarting them. Are you willing? Why, why yes, Blaine stammered, looking deep into the earnest eyes of Taedas. You know the fate of Teodor? I do. The young Roulan fell silent, then shook his head as if to clear it of unwelcome thoughts. There are but few of us left, O Earthman, he said then, and I'll expect a like fate sooner or later. But that is beside the point. We have important work to do, work that brooks no delay. We leave now for Trittuanu, with your consent. Tom Farley was examining the machinery of the car with interest. This is one of the monorail cars? He inquired when Dantas had seated himself at the controls. Indeed not. The Lotta do not even know of the existence of this vehicle. We could not get right of way on the rails. So this gravity car was developed in secrecy. It is provided with variable repulsion energies that can be adjusted to keep it at a fixed distance from the inner surface surface of the copper shell. Thus it misses crossbeams and braces. It is drawn forward by similar energies, or more exactly by the component of a number of attracting forces. We do not display lights, so are thus comparatively safe from discovery. They'll catch us sooner or later, though of course. Dantas indulged in a fatalistic shrug of his shoulders as he concluded. At his manipulation of a number of tiny levers that were set into the control panels like the stops of an organ, the car lurched forward silently. Swiftly they sped on through the gloom under the great copper shell, through the viewing glass of a periscope arrangement that let no betraying light escape to the outside. They watched the endless lines of illuminating globe slip by beneath them, weirdly vast and shadowy in the upper reaches. The latticed supporting columns on either side merged into continuous semi transparent walls as the car gathered speed. The city of Islundar was left far behind. Patches of jungle flashed by other cities and always the endless rows of blue white lights. There was neither night nor day in the sealed in world, only the artificial suns that never set. Continuous subjection to the ultra violet and visible rays of the vast lighting system was necessary to the growth and reproduction of the plant life that was so essential in keeping the atmosphere breathable. Tommy had forgotten everything save his interest in the mechanism of the car. He and Dantis were fast friends already chin in hand and eyes avoiding the pain of mourning in Titus's fixed gaze. Carson lost himself in gloomy meditation as he thought back over the events of the past few days, he could scarcely believe they had actually occurred, or that he was sitting here in a mystery car, speeding through the rank atmosphere of an enclosed world a half billion miles from his own home seemed incredibly remote and desirable just then. And the future dark and forbidding. End of section 4. Section 5 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent the Copper clad World Chapter 5 the Trittu Annu before the car came to a stop, Titus rummaged in a locker and stretched forth his hands as if carrying something delicate and fragile. It will be necessary for you to put this on, he said. It will be unsafe otherwise. Blaine stared, mystified. Was this Rulan kidding him? Put what on? He asked. A thousand pardons. I had forgotten that you do not know. I hold in my hands a cloak, an invisible thing that will hide you from the guards and from the Zara's crystal, another secret of my father's. Dantor developed it for him only recently. Blaine felt the texture of the stuff, then crumpled it in his fingers as its gossamer like weight dropped in loose folds around his body. But there was nothing there to the eyes. It simply did not exist except to the touch, and he felt no different with it on than he had before. Where's Tommy? He asked suddenly. Seeing that Dantis now sat alone at the controls, Titus laughed. He has been covered in the same manner, he said, and is safely hidden from sight as you are. Incredulous. Disbelieving, Blaine called out to his friend in a tremulous voice, and Tom Farley's odd response reassured him. Keep close to me, titus told him. The car had stopped, and he directed them into the basket of the lift. The two earthmen collided violently and, clinging to each other in their ghastly invisibility, laughed crazily for a moment. As far as any observers might know, there were only the two Roolans in the basket. Blaine fingered Pograni's ray pistol when the cable lowered them swiftly to the roof of a huge steel cylinder that rose, a solitary and unlovely structure in the midst of the jungle a thousand miles from Illindar. The indicator informed him that seven energy charges still remained in the storage chamber of the little weapon. Its possession brought him a measure of confidence. Careful scrutiny of the roof had shown it to be deserted, so the basket was brought to rest in a Deeply shadowed portion. Immediately they stepped out and it was sent swiftly aloft by remote control of a portable ether wave that Dantor produced. They encountered two of the green bronze guards in one of the passages below and these challenged the Roulan lads with drawn pistols. The alarm was out. Fortunately, Pegrani had not recognized Titus or all would have been lost. But the Zara was watching every Roulan community and had instructed her guards to take the Earthmen into custody at all costs. Those remarkable cloaks were all that saved them. They breathed easier when the guards passed on. Now they were in a lift, dropping speedily into the depths of the Trittu Anu. When the cage came to rest, they were hustled into a maze of winding passageways that led ever downward. A wall of damp stone finally blocked their progress. But at Dandas touch of a hidden spring, a section of the solid rock swung aside to admit them to a concealed room where the lights were bright and where a delegation of Roulans awaited their coming. With the cloaks of invisibility removed. They were welcomed by Dantor, a tall white haired Rulan who was startling like his son. They were a solemn lot, these Ruulans of the older generation, but they gazed on the Earthmen with sympathy and understanding. An entirely different breed from the Lota. This room was a secret laboratory fully equipped for chemical and physical research. Dantor sat before a small replica of the Zara's crystal ball as he addressed the visitors. No doubt you are puzzled, he began, using the language of the Lotta with an accent that softened his harsh gutturals over the calamity that has befallen you. And it is not to be wondered at. But your own danger is as nothing compared with the danger that now threatens our whole solar system. It is to explain that and to ask your co operation in warding off the holocaust that I have sent for you. Since the destruction of the Tritu Ngaru, we Roulans number less than 1,000, of whom 300 are here. The Tritu Anu is foremost of the royal laboratories of Lotenar and its work is carried out entirely by our people. It is only on account of our superior accomplishments in science that the Lota have allowed us to exist for for so long a time. And in this connection I might say that the Zara has been taken severely to task for her wanton massacre of the roolands of the Trittu Ngaru. But that is neither here nor there. It is merely a side light I am giving you. The important thing is this K Metal of yours and its relation to the plans of the Lotta. Antrid, as you know, is a dying world coming rapidly to the end of its resources, and as our ancestors did before us, the Lota have been casting their eyes about for a new home. The inner planets beckoned, especially your Earth, but it was manifestly impossible to reach them, as there is insufficient fuel in all Antrid to provide for the voyage of even one space ship. Then, with the long range searching rays of the crystal ball, television and sound reproducers, they discovered the use of this K metal. The sending of Antaso to your Earth followed the rest you know in so far as his activities are concerned. But what you do not know is the Lotta have constructed a huge steel tube that is set deep into the crust of Antrid, an enormous rocket tube, if you please, like one of those on your spaceship. They plan to use the energy of this supply of K metal in setting up tremendous streams of electronic discharges from from the great tube, and thus to swing the satellite from its natural orbit. They would send this entire world hurtling through space toward the inner planets, and by proper control of the rocket discharges, bring it close to your Earth, where it would become a secondary satellite at close range. Then they could war on you at their leisure and finally take Earth as their new home. Thus have the Lota planned. What? Blaine exclaimed. Why, we blast them from the skies before they were started. They haven't a chance. Dantor nodded gravely. I am sure of it, he agreed. I have seen your great guns in the crystal.
- [75:32]
A
Hanging out at the pool is great. Relaxing and playing Vegas style games on my phone at the same time. Drink in one hand and a blackjack jack in the other. It's all at Spinquest. Over a thousand games, including your favorite slots and table games. Be cool with this summer special new players get 30 coin packs for 10@Spinquest.com Spin Quest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details, but they
- [76:02]
B
are blind to that possibility, and there are other serious flaws in the plan. The incentive, of course, lies in the certain knowledge that we are using up internal heat of Antridge so rapidly that less than a century of life now remains to its peoples. Our power is produced by admitting water to the interior through myriads of tubes that serve the double purpose of introducing the water and conveying the generated steam back to the surface, where it produces electricity by driving great turbine generators. This electricity is distributed by charging the copper shell and the ground beneath at high frequency. It is then collected from the air between the heaters and various machines that use it. But the shortage is ever more serious and Antrid is cooling off. Thus the need for the K metal, and thus the sending of Antaso. And now for the flaws. The Zara in killing Antasob, frustrated her own plans, as he alone of all her people, knew how to use this marvellous energy producer. Realizing this, she set about to make friends with you two in hope that the information might be obtained from you. It was a great mistake and raised an unexpected obstacle. Well, I'll be damned. Blaine exploded. No wonder she tried her wiles on me. Tried to make a sucker out of me, didn't she? Dantor smiled knowingly. More about Clion later, he said. Actually, she is enamoured of you, Carson, and besides, she's not really responsible for the mad plan herself. But that tale can wait. The basic and most serious flaw in the plan is it cannot possibly succeed, no matter how successful their attempts. What they do not understand and will not believe when I tell them is that the only result of the mad experiment will be the complete destruction of the solar system, Antrid and themselves included. Complete and horrible annihilation, I say. Dander paused and eyed his visitor solemnly in his mind's eye. Blaine could not visualize such a thing, nor picture the possible explanation, but he saw that Tommy had paled and was clenching his fists. Tommy was more of a scientist. It must be, he realized, what this enterprise involved. Dantor was speaking again in low, intense tones. What they are refusing to see is that the delicate balance of the solar system will be disturbed if a body as large as Antrid is moved a half billion miles sunward. All bodies are kept in their orbits by a nice balance of mass attraction and centrifugal force. If a single one is altered, all others are affected. What would happen is easy to calculate. First off, when Antrid approached the inner planets, all bodies in the system would change their paths, and the altered forces would cause severe earthquakes, tidal waves, and other natural disturbances of disastrous extent. These would increase in violence as Antra drew nearer to the sun, and if she finally took up her position as a new satellite of the Earth, the entire solar system would be in chaos by this time. Even if life still remained on Earth, it would quickly become extinct, for the vastly increased tidal forces on that body would flood the land to the peaks of the highest mountains. Earth would draw in closer to the sun due to the loss of velocity and increased mass of the Earth moon system, tremendous new forces would rend asunder the Earth Its moon and Antrid, Venus and Mars following suit as the forces equalized, we would have a dead universe. Tommy believed him. That was apparent from his furrowed brow and grim, set jaw. I'll never give him the secret of the K metal, he grated. Nor will Carson. I'll gamble on that. We'll die here before they'll get it out of us. Blaine seconded his remarks fervently. Then, turning to the Roulan scientist, perhaps, he suggested, we might remain in hiding here for an indefinite period. Perhaps even we might contrive a way of getting to the store of K metal and regaining possession of it. They'd be licked for sure then. Dantor beamed. That is exactly why I sent for you, he said. Then, sobering anew, he added, but I fear that would not be the end. They will not give up. Another emissary would be transmitted to duplicate Antaso's exploit on Earth. And in five of your years the danger would again be faced. They would take infinite precaution to prevent a second failure. We must make it forever impossible now. How can we? My God, it's hopeless. Blaine groaned. Nothing is hopeless, my boy. Consider the plight of the Roulains. No, there is still hope, and we will leave you to think it over if you are willing. It is necessary that we Roulains show our faces above before we arouse the suspicions of the guards. Of course we're willing. We'll stay as long as you say and help. Blaine was intensely earnest, and Tommy chimed in with his old time fervor and enthusiasm, but hope of success seemed remote. A murmur of approval came from the assembled Roulans, and Dantor wiped a trace of moisture from his tired old eyes. Thank you, he said simply. This chamber is insulated from the searching rays of the crystal spheres. You are safe for the present and will be supplied with everything you need. And I shall return shortly to discuss the matter in further detail. The two Earthmen were alone then, in the uncanny silence of the underground retreat, regarding each other with odd comprehension. What patient, hopeless creatures these Roulans were. Knowing they were doomed and without thought of their own safety, they were bending their every effort to the impossible task of saving the universe from the madness of the Lota. What do you know about that? Tommy said after a while. Is it true what he said? Blaine asked. What would happen? To our world, I mean, and to the rest? Not a question of doubt. He's doped it out to a T. Smart guy, this Dantor. What do you think? Is there chance? Think. Hush, Tommy interrupted him. Didn't you hear something? The silence was ghastly, depressing. Blaine heard distinctly the beating of his own heart. Then it was there again, that sound. A muffled scream from the other side of the stone door. A woman's scream of desperate entreaty. A shuddering, long drawn moan trailing off into deathly silence. Section 6 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent the Copper clad World Chapter 6 Ulana Blaine was tugging at the lever he had seen the Roulins use in opening the stone door from the inside. Tommy, less excited, tried to press one of the invisible cloaks into his free hand. Here, he begged. Don't be a damn fool. They'll get you, the devils. But the great block of stone was swinging already, and the young pilot squeezed through and into the passage. He stumbled over the crumpled figure of a young girl and into the arms of one of the green bronze guards. Recovering instantly, he prodded the big fellow's ribs with the Ray pistol. Stick em up. He snarled. Then, realizing the words were meaningless to the other, he said, raise your hands above your head. That's right. Stand still now or I'll use the Ray. The guard, his face ghastly in the dim light, obeyed, but his wary eyes never left Blaine's for an instant. A short way down the hall was the body of a young Reullan. Blaine shuddered as he saw it was headless. The ray had nearly missed that time, its energy spent before complete disintegration was effected. The girl lay still at his feet. With quick fingers he frisked the guard, finding his Ray pistol and one gas grenade. What was he to do with the big fellow? He ought to let him have it. But somehow he couldn't. Tommy was in the passageway then, invisible. The big guard stifled an amazed cry as his husky voice came out of the nothingness. These devils of earthmen. They had worked their evil magic on the Zara, had she not ordered that their lives be spared? And now there was this. His thoughts were written large on the ordinarily expressionless countenance, and Blaine was tempted to laugh at his affrighted dismay. Come on, you bonehead, tommy was saying in English. Bring the big bum inside. I'll carry the girl. Hurry. There'll be a million of them in a minute. The girl's huddled figure was raised by unseen hands poised in mid air for A moment it floated joggedly, unsteadily through the crack of the partly opened stone door. The guard, wide mouthed and staring, muttered supplication to the war gods of Antred. Safely inside the secret chamber, the earthmen made haste to truss up the guard and gag him. He was as tractable as a child under the invisible fingers of Tommy Farley, with eyes imploring the evil spirits for mercy. And when Tommy's head appeared, drifting unsupported by a body to be followed by arms and shoulders that seemed to materialize from nothingness, the big fellow struggled, panic stricken in his bonds, shaking with superstitious terror. Blaine straightened the girl's limbs where she lay on a low couch. She was breathing in low, shuddering gasps, but a swift examination assured him that she had not been harmed. Her beautifully chiselled ivory features were fixed in an expression of nameless dread. A mass of red gold hair tumbled in confusion about her face and shoulders, and when the pilot smoothed this back, his heart did a most peculiar flip flop, sort of jumped into his throat and stuck there. This Roolin maiden was a vision of feminine loveliness if ever there was one. A dream. Tommy watched him with a cynical smile and said with mock contempt, so you're the guy who swore you'd never tangle up with a femme. Just a month ago, too. Now look. First you get this Zorra woman all het up over you, and now this one's got you all het up over her. You make me sick. There was no fitting retort. Besides, this thing that had come to him was too serious, too big. He couldn't kid about it, even with Tom. Why, he'd always pictured this very girl in his thoughts. He had always dreamed of meeting her some day, and here she was, a living, breathing reality. She was stirring too, now, breathing easier. Her eyes opened wide, frightened innocent ones, like a child's, blue, grey and fringed with long lashes that raised dewy from the smooth ivory of her cheeks. Antaeus. My brother. She exclaimed, remembering. Where is he? I saw, I thought. And the guard. He wanted to take me. Oh. Hands fluttering to cover her face. She was sobbing now, and Blaine raised her in his arms, clumsily attempting to comfort her. Your brother, he said gently. I'm afraid the guard did away with him. He is no more. Y Yes, I remember now. I saw. She shuddered and became still, her tousled golden head somehow finding a comfortable hollow beneath Blaine's shoulder. And then, bravely, she sat erect and faced him. I. I suppose I shouldn't feel so badly, she said. We always expect it. But I was so fond of him, and he was the last. I am alone now. Not alone, said Blaine. You have me. Us, that is. We are the Earth men, you know, and you are safe here. You are Carson? She inquired. Yes, and my friend is Farley. That is how your people address us. But we had rather you call us Blaine and Tommy. Tom Farley was grinning like an idiot. Didn't he have any more sense? Blaine thought the girl would think he was making fun of her. I am Uleana, she said simply. The stone door opened silently and Titus slipped in, closing it swiftly behind him. He stared at the girl and at the trussed up figure of the guard. So. He exclaimed. This is the explanation. He breathed heavily, as if he had run a long way, and his face was flushed with excitement. Why? What's wrong? Blaine sensed a calamity. The Zara. She must have seen you in the crystal. She is in a murderous rage and has visited her wrath on the Trittu Anu. Even now Dantor is on his way to Elendar in answer to her summons. Titus, I am sorry. It is my fault entirely. But. But we heard Ulana cry out. You did quite right, Carson. I should have done the same myself. And actually it makes little difference as far as we Roulans are concerned. We had not long to remain in this life anyway. It is only that your hiding place might be revealed that our plans to outwit the Lotto will fail you. You think she will make away with Dantor?
- [91:07]
A
Hanging out at the pool is great. Relaxing and playing Vegas style games on my phone at the same time. Drink in one hand and a blackjack in the other. It's all at Spinquest. Over a thousand games, including your favorite slots and table games. Be cool with this summer special new players get $30 coin packs for 10@Spinquest.com SpinQuest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [91:37]
B
No, he's too valuable as a scientist. But the guards are awaiting her orders to repeat what happened in the Tritunegaru. She depends on the work of his laboratory, a great deal though it may be, she'll stay her hand. He was fussing with the controls of the small crystal as he spoke, and it sprang to life with a peculiar shifting milkiness. Then, clearly they were looking into the council chamber at Elendar. Cleon was there, pacing the floor. Dantor had just arrived with two of the green bronze guards. The Zara, though nervous, was curiously calm and polite in her greeting of the aged scientist, Dantor, she said, I want these Earth men. I cannot produce them, your Majesty. You will not, you mean? Cleon dropped her voice. For two reasons, Dantor. I must have these Earth men, and they must not be harmed. We need them on account of this Kay metal that was brought by Antaso, whose ugly body I so foolishly destroyed. Two reasons, you said, O Cleon. Dander smiled knowingly. Yes, too, said the Zara defiantly. I love this Carson, if you must know. And it is the only influence for good that has ever come into my life, Dantor. Oh, can't you see? I must have them. Blaine felt the hot blood mound to his temples. Tommy giggled like a moron, and Ulana drew away ever so slightly. It was true, but still it was a definite withdrawal. Damn this leopard woman anyway. He is not for you, O Cleon, dantor was saying to the people of his world. The very thought of such a woman as yourself is repulsive. A murderess, he would call you. Their reactions to the taking of a human life are entirely different from those of the Lota. They are, you will pardon my saying it, more like those of the Roolans. The Lota hold life cheap. They hold it dear to your people. You are not a bad woman, only a foolish one who sometimes in the heat of passion, upsets their plans by the sudden snuffing out of a life that is valuable to those plans. Do you not see my point? He is different. To him, you are the wickedest woman whom he has ever encountered. A monster. This was strong talk. Blaine drew a quick breath, anticipating another of her black rages and sudden death for poor old Dantor. But Cleon suddenly was on her knees before the old scientist, pleading with him. Creature of strange caprices, though human like in her emotions, when in her softer moods she was more like the feline to which Blaine had likened her when those soft moods had passed. Somewhere overhead in the chambers of Trittu Anu, there was the sound of a muffled explosion. Its shock was felt even here in the rock Hewn secret apartment. Titus went white. Quickly he manipulated the controls of the crystal sphere. It can't be. He exclaimed. The guards would not disobey her, and she has ordered no action. Swiftly then, the searching ray of the apparatus swung back to the Trittuanu itself, boring into the vast structure above them. One of the chemical laboratories was completely wrecked, maimed and dying. Roulans were everywhere in the ruins, and those who staggered to their feet were shot down by the green bronze guards who stood at the doorway, then floor after floor was revealed in the all seeing crystal. Everywhere it was the same merciless cold blooded destruction of the Rulin scientists, the most valuable of all in the lot scheme of things. The Earthmen were speechless with horror. Uleanna once more buried her head in Carson's shoulder, moaning helplessly. The scene shifted again to the council chamber of the palace in Elendar. The Zara had not risen from her knees. She was still pleading with Dantor. She knew nothing of the massacre. Ioneto. Titus gasped. It must be he. And once more the view was changed. They were in the huge dome through which they had entered this mad world near the base of the great telescope. A bullet headed lot was gazing into the depths of one of the crystal spheres, watching the carnage in the Trittu Anu and shouting his orders to the guards. Slay, slay, slay. He yelled. Not a Rulan shall remain in all antred. It is Ionitto commanding you. Ioannitto, the great, master of our destinies, dictator supreme. Let not one escape. I command it. Then will come the great day of release, of conquest. A new home, a new world awaits you for the taking. It is as I thought. Titus groaned. It is the end. He has taken things in his own hands. At last the sphere went blanket as touch of a lever. His shoulders drooped and he spread his hands in a gesture of resignation. What in the devil? Tommy exploded. Can this guy overrule Lazara? Is he that powerful? He is actually the ruler of the world that is Antrid, the power behind the throne. Cleon must do his bidding. He has seen that she is softening and resolved to speed things up himself. A sudden bedlam could be heard in the corridor outside the stone door. The Sayoneto had gone. The Zara one better. He had located them. Probably saw the capture of the guard and the rescue of Ulana on the very spot where his minions now hammered for entrance. They will take you, Titus whispered. There is no doubt as to the orders issued by Ioneto. They will take you alive and bring you to him. You will be compelled to yield the secret of the metal that energizes. Not on your life. We'll refuse. Blaine was very positive. Titus smiled sadly. There is the pink gas, you know, he reminded him. No, Carson, there is but one way. You must go out into the jungle and hide for a time. Dantor will return later. It is certain he will be spared, and he will contrive some way of outwitting them. Come, There is a passage. Blaine saw the Wisdom of the argument. It was their only chance. There was a blast that shook the ground beneath their feet, and a huge section of the stone door was blown into the room. He drew Yuana close with the possessive, encircling arm. They were in a dark, narrow passage now, following the whispered voice of Titus. It was damp and rankly odorous there in the darkness, and slimy things wriggled over the floor, brushing their ankles clammily. Behind them there was the roar of another explosion and the shouting of angry voices. The guards were in the secret chamber and hot on their trail. Titus was fumbling with something ahead of them where they had halted, something that rattled and clanked and finally came free. A door opened into the deep, shadowed green of the jungle. Go now, quickly, he warned them. Hide yourself as far in as you dare go. You will be lost, but will later be directed by a mental image from Dantor. I shall advise him from the spirit world. We do that, you know, We Roulans. But I must leave you now. I must hold back the guards to give you time. Go, friends. Farewell. In his hand, Tidus held the ray pistol they had taken from the captured guard. He would account for a few of the Lota, at least. Blaine reached for him, to restrain him. It was unthinkable that this fine lad should sacrifice himself for them. But Titus was gone. He had slipped away into the black depths of the passageway. Come on, snap to it, Tommy grated, his voice brittle with suppressed emotion. The kid's right. Let's go. He pushed his way into the matted growth of the jungle, holding Yu' Lana close and not daring to look into her eyes, lest he should see what he knew was there. Blaine followed his friend. The mysterious depths of the pale green forest closed in about them. End of section 6. Section 7 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent the Copper clad world Chapter 7 In the jungle they had progressed not more than 20 paces into the dense undergrowth when the gleaming wall of Trituanu was entirely hidden from view. The artificial sunlight seeped through the mass of vegetation overhead, a ghostly green twilight that made death masks of their faces. But of the lights themselves, of the great latticed columns of enormous spongelike blossoms of the upper surface of the jungle sea, nothing could be seen. They were deep in a tangled maze of translucent flora that was like nothing so much as a forest of giant seaweed transplanted from its natural element. The moss like carpet beneath their feet was slushy, wet and condensed moisture rained steadily from the matted fronds and tendrils above.
- [101:50]
A
Hanging out at the pool is great. Relaxing and playing Vegas style games on my phone at the same time. Drink in one hand and a blackjack in the other. It's all at spinquest. Over a thousand games, including your favorite slots and table games. Be cool with this summer special new players get 30 coin packs for 10@Spinquest.com Spin Quest is a free to play social casino Void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [102:20]
B
The air they breathed was hot and stifling, laden with rank odors and curling mist that assailed throat and head passages with choking effect. Weird whisperings there were from above and all about them. It seemed almost that the uncanny weaving green things were alive and voicing indignant protest over the intrusion of the three humans. Ankle deep in the rain soaked moss, their clothing drenched and steaming, they pressed ever deeper into the tangle. All sense of direction was lost. Guess we'd better rest now, said Blaine, seeing that Ulana was gasping from her exertions. They'll never trail us here. How about this crystal thing, the searching ray? Tommy ventured. It cannot follow us, the girl explained. Certain juices of plants provide an insulator against the ray. In fact, it was an extract of these that was used in protecting the underground laboratory we just left. We are safe now. And I am very tired. So that was the reason Titus had been so certain they would be safe in the jungle. Blaine had wondered about that searching ray, and now Ulanna's statement had stilled his doubts. Poor kid. She was all in. Her shoulders drooped and she leaned on his arm for support. His conscience troubled him for having forced the pace in the difficult footing. They need not have come so far in. A glint of light through the close packed stems caught his eye. Something phosphorescent. It was shining there in the green twilight, a giant mushroom towering seven feet from the ground. The great umbrella like top was aglow with sulphurous light. On its under side and beneath its ten foot spread the mossy carpet was Dryan, ideal shelter. Here Ulana might find the rest she so sorely needed, and in comparative comfort she curled up beside the huge stem and, half buried in warm dry moss, immediately fell asleep. The earthmen sat gazing solemnly at each other, speechless. In the dim distance the roar of a monorail car rose faintly at first, then grew louder and louder, only to fade away Once more into the whispering silence, a steady patter of jungle rain drummed on the mushroom top. God, tommy muttered after a while. I'd give my right eye for a cigarette. Me too. Blaine was hugging his knees, nodding drowsily. A nice rare steak with mushroom sauce wouldn't go so bad either, he drawled. Ah, have a heart. I'm so sick of these Weidmann pills of theirs. I never want to see one again. Yeah, but they're better than nothing. We haven't any of those even say, Tommy jumped to his feet in sudden remembrance. I saw a bush back there, about 50ft, with bunches of red berries on it, like grapes. They looked maybe good to eat. Sure, they may be. And then again, they may be poison. We can't take any chances like that. Leave em alone. Tommy growled unintelligibly and fell to walking around their shelter with nervous strides, keeping just within the dry area and glaring savagely into the steaming jungle. Blaine smiled grimly. Nerves. Tommy always was like that. Always had to be on the go and doing something. His own nerves were jumpy today. They were in hot water this time for sure. Had to keep on, though. They were still alive, or at least half alive, and the solar system was intact as yet. If only Tom Farley would quit his infernal tramping. Cut it out. Blaine snapped peevishly. You'll have us both, bughouse. Can't you sit down and take it easy? Tommy stopped in his tracks. Sorry, Blaine, he said, but he remained standing, staring off into the jungle. Then suddenly he exclaimed, say, I'm going for some of those grapes or whatever they are. I'll bring a mess of them back and we can wait until Ulana wakes up. She'll know whether they are poison or not. Oh, go ahead, but don't get yourself lost. Yell out if you can't find us and I'll answer. Ok, don't worry about me. And in three steps Tommy was swallowed up in the undergrowth. Blaine stole a glance at the girl and something caught at his throat. God, she was beautiful. There must be some way of getting her out of this mess. Dantor, perhaps, might show the way. He ought to be sending that message soon. A mental one, Titus said. Poor kid. Titus gone to the happy hunting grounds now. No question of that. And he intended to advise Dantor from the spirit world. As simple as that it was. They were game, these roulans. Fatalist, though, and resigned to the inevitable. Hopeless but a wonderful people in a rotten world. He soon felt his head droop and in a moment he began to doze. When he awoke, it was to the touch of Uleana's soft fingers on his arm. We are alone? She asked. Lord. He exclaimed, rising stiffly and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. How long have I napped? I shouldn't have. A swift look around the small clearing disclosed the fact that Tommy was missing. He shouldn't have let him go. A sudden panic gripped him. Tommy. Tommy. He called out. There was not even an echo in the reply, only the whispering of the jungle overhead and all around them. His friend was gone. Uleanna, he said, his voice trembling. We are alone. Farley is lost, swallowed up in this terrible forest. And then suddenly she was in his arms. Those wondrous blue eyes, swimming in tears, looked into his own soft red lips, upturned, met his lips, clung there. I am sorry, my Carson, she said softly when he had released her. Sorry that your good friend is lost. But perhaps more brightly, he has but strayed away. When the mental message comes, you will be reunited. He will hear it as well as you. Blaine shook his head. In his own heart, he knew he would never see Tommy again. He had wandered too close to the Trittuanu and had been overpowered by the green bronze guards, their ray pistols. He shuddered at the thought. I have you now, my Carson, the girl was saying. Only you. In a daze of pain and happiness intermingled, he knew he was holding her close, drawing her fiercely to him, and then raising dull eyes to stare over the precious head and into the jungle that hid his friend. He froze with horror. A flat serpent head with wide slavering mouth and beady eyes swayed there, directly behind her pendent. It was on a scaly and slimy length of undulating body that coiled high above in the matted growths of the jungle. As he watched, rooted to the spot, the great head drew back and poised, vibrating, ready to strike. In one quick movement he flung the girl aside and whipped out the ray pistol he had taken from Pagani. He pressed the release and a whirring sound came from the little weapon, but no crackling blue flame sprang forth to blast this creature into nothingness. Jumping aside, he was thrown to the ground by its lashing body as the great snake struck and missed. But the pistol was useless, short circuited by the moisture, no doubt. He crouched there, calling huskily to Ulana. She must run for it, force her way back into the thick undergrowth where the thing could not reach her. She lay there, helpless with terror. Then, in a flash, she was on her feet, dashing to his side. God the huge head was poised there again, pulsating, glittering, avid eyes upon them. Instinctively, Blaine raised the pistol. Just as the head darted forward, the release clicked home, and wonder of wonders, the blue flame crackled spitefully, exploding atoms dazzling in the green twilight. Mighty thrashings of the huge coils high up in the tangled foliage, crashing and tearing of great stems and rope like tendrils. But the enormous body was headless, a dead thing in the throes of its final reflexes. Only the one charge had been spoiled. The little pistol had served them well. He drew Uleana into the thickest of the undergrowth for protection against the tremendous slashing thing that crashed into the small clearing where the giant mushroom grew. Their shelter was destroyed. He must find another. He must be forever on guard over this girl, whose hand clung so confidently to his own as they wedged their way into the thicket. Carson. Yulana. A familiar voice rose above the whisperings of the jungle. A voice familiar yet unreal, supernatural, a calm, commanding one that did not sound, but echoed only in the consciousness. Hark. Uleana gripped his hand more tightly. Did you hear? It's Dantor. The message Tidus promised in awed silence. They waited. A tiny ball of orange fire flamed suddenly in the depths of the rushes directly before them. A sign. Ah, you are there. The voice broke in. I have your mental reactions. You will follow the orange beacon to the Trittu Anu, where I await your coming. Be of good cheer, my children. What magic was this? The science of the Roulans was beyond comprehension. Of the Earthman, here was telepathy in its most perfect form. Communications from the spirit plane, the orange flame. It was all so utterly fantastic that Blaine had to look earnestly at the girl to assure himself it was not a dream. She smiled confidently, and the orange flame was moving off into the undergrowth. They must follow its beckoning, flickering light. It was a nightmare, that journey back through the jungle to the Tritu Anu Dantor must be in a fearful hurry, for the orange flame moved swiftly. If they stopped a moment to rest, it danced there impatiently, then receded into the green shadows until they were forced to follow for fear of losing it. Ulana's light robe was torn and sodden with moisture. The perfectly rounded ivory shoulders, bare now, were scratched and bleeding from contact with thorny protuberances that covered some of the lighter reed like stems. But the brave girl was uncomplaining. She clung doggedly to the Earthman's hand, when they were able to walk erect, followed swiftly and unquestioningly when they were compelled to crawl or wriggle through an almost impenetrable thicket. Once she cried out in alarm and Blaine turned back to see that the wiry tendrils of a spiny globular plant had wound themselves around her slim body and held her fast as he grasped her hand to draw her away. Other tendrils curled about his waist and he too was imprisoned. They burned the flesh, those writhing things, and tugged mightily. Ulanna screamed with the pain of the many that held her in their tightening grasp. It was alive, this thing that grew there, a huge ball with a thousand stinging tentacles. A carnivorous plant. Even as the realization flashed across his mind, he saw that the spiny sphere was opening. Split vertically, the two halves fell apart to disclose the steaming interior whose walls were lined with sharp dagger like projections a foot in length and the wiry tendrils were drawing them in. Almost insane with horror, Blaine released the disintegrating energy of the weapon he still carried in his free hand. Twice he pressed its release and twice the searing blue flame spurted from the glass tube that was its muzzle. Only a few charges remained now in the marvellous weapon, but once more it had served them well. The open mouthed plant monster vanished with the clearing of the blue vapour and the ensnaring tendrils relaxed, falling from their bodies like so many loosened cords. Blaine caught the swooning girl in his arms. Half carrying her. He struggled on after the orange flare. The base of one of the latticed supporting columns loomed vast in the eerie twilight gloom, and he leaned a moment against one of its vine wrapped members. The girl was exhausted and clung limp in his circling right arm. Still, the orange beacon danced on. If only Dantor would ease up a bit, couldn't he give them a little time? On and on he staggered, ploughing through the sloppy footing and the dripping clinging greens that were everywhere in his path. Slimy fawns wrapped themselves round them, impeding his progress, clinging as if they too were alive. The whispering silence closed in on them, vast and mysterious, menacing, awful. And then he stumbled against a metallic wall, the curved side of the Trituanu. His brain cleared and courage returned with a rush. The tiny orange flame danced merrily, leading him along the wall toward the door he knew was there. Breathing easier now, his pace quickened as Dantor's guiding light slithered along the gleaming wall. Sometimes it was almost hidden from sight by the curvature of the welded plates and he was forced into a jog trot to keep it in view. Grimly, tenderly, he clung to the delectable creature whose soft body drooped against him. The door, the self same passage through which they had escaped, opened before him. Grateful even for this doubtful protection, he crossed the threshold and trudged wearily along with his precious burden. Blindly trusting in the miraculous powers of Dantor, he followed the orange beacon, which now seemed to smile cheerfully as it lighted his way through the winding rock walled tunnel. Dazed and spent, he collapsed in the arms of the aged Roulan when he reached the end of the passage. End of section 7. Section 8 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harl Vincent the Copper clad World Chapter 8 Last of the Ruilans Bathed and fed and attired in dry clothing provided by Dantor, the Earthman and Ruhlan Maiden were much refreshed and hardened when together they finally faced the aged scientist in the laboratory of the secret apartment. He hadn't allowed them to talk as yet. Blaine glanced at the ragged opening where the stone door had been blown away. We're safe from intrusion here? He asked. Dantor shrugged expressive shoulders. The Trittuannu is empty of life, he said. A sepulcher. Those of our people who were not completely disintegrated lie black in corpses in the chambers and corridors overhead. The gas grenades, you know. The guards went to Ioneto with Farley and reported you dead, lost in the jungle from which none return. Farley. Blaine shouted. He is alive. A wild hope sprang into being, intensified to a certainty as Dantor nodded. Why, yes. I thought you knew. They captured him very soon after the escape, but were unable to find you and Yolana. Ioneto has mechanized him. He is in a hypnotic state of complete subjection to the dictator. A quantity of K metal has been taken to the laboratory at the breach of the Great Rocket Tube, and Farley now works there with Ioneto's crew, initiating them into the mysteries of the metal's uses. Things look very bad. Blaine lost his elation over the knowledge that his friend was alive. Tommy was doomed anyway. They were all doomed. Why did you bring us back? He asked, turning away. Blaine felt it was better to have died in the jungle than to face this certainty of lingering torture. Ioneto had triumphed. The universe was fated for utter annihilation, and Ulanna would suffer for weeks, perhaps months, before the final swift dissolution. Understanding, Dander smiled gravely. My boy, he said. We still live. And while we live, there is hope. That is the reason I brought you back. Titus's message came to me as his spirit left the body, and I made haste to come here as soon as the Zara released me and I knew the coast was clear. What hope can there be? Appalled by the enormity of the disaster that threatened the solar system, certain of the ultimate fate that would be meted out to Tom Farley, and convinced of their own helplessness, Blaine was gloomily unenthusiastic. That remains to be seen, Carson. I confess it seems impossible of remedy, but the situation must be faced and studied carefully. Insignificant as we are in the vastness of the cosmos, we may yet prove to be the ones to circumvent the mad plans of the Lota and prevent the catastrophe which is inevitable if they succeed. We must not give up while we still breathe. The indomitable spirit of the old scientist glistened in his keen eyes and he stepped to the controls of the crystal sphere. He will not give up, Odantor. Ulana exclaimed loyally. He is with us to the end. Do I speak truth, my Carson? Her arm slipped through his and he thrilled anew at her fragrant nearness. Give up? Never. Not with Ulana to fight for. Blaine nodded wordless agreement, silenced by the expression of Dantor's face as the crystal vibrated to a musically throbbing note. There in the crystal ball was pictured a vast underground workshop, somewhat like the one in the great dome through which they had entered the copper clad world. In place of the telescope there was the butt of a gigantic cannon like tube that that towered and was lost in the shadows of the vaulted chamber. Tom Farley, moving jerkily and staring with glazed unseeing eyes, was working there with a cube of glittering K metal.
- [122:40]
A
Hey everybody, Lady Luck here and we're celebrating America's 250th birthday. Now all summer long I'm going to be celebrating by playing on finquest.com which is an American owned social casino. It obviously features over 1000 slot games and live blackjack, live craps, live bubble craps. Head on over to spinquest.com get yourself a $30 coin pack for just 10 bucks. Spinquest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [123:10]
B
In the open breech block of the tube was a heaped up cone of dry soil, the material they would disintegrate in producing the blast of electronic forces. Blaine groaned as his friend called for the equivalent of a milligram of Radium. Though his voice was listless and his movements uncertain, Tommy knew what he was doing and was giving away the secret, powerless to resist the command Ioneto had implanted in his completely subjective mind. Ah, Dantor breathed. Progressive annihilation of energy. A thing we never have accomplished. You cite ordinary material such as this dry soil by means of atoms exploded from this K metal, which is in turn excited by ordinary radium that can be used over and over as the primary excitant. Am I correct? You are. There are precise ratios of atomic weights to be considered, of course, but it looks as if my friend is being extremely accurate in spite of his dazed condition. Man alive, there is enough material there to provide power for the entire planet Venus for a month, and enough to start Antrid from her orbit, Dantor returned. Enough to send her on her fatal journey sunward only for the first acceleration. A vast amount of energy is needed, Carson, since the gravitational attraction of the planet you call Jupiter is enormous. Antrid will be speeded up in its orbit, and the increased centrifugal force will cause it to take up a new and larger orbit where the forces will equalize. Several charges will be required in order to free her entirely from the mother body. There's time then. Blaine exclaimed excitedly. What can we do to put a stop to the thing? Something to counteract this control by Ioneto. To cause Tommy to err in his proportions. Yes, that would do it. Temporarily at least, Dantor agreed, his brow wrinkled in thought. And there are the invisible cloaks. It is a bare chance. If you want to take it. I can show you the way to this underground laboratory, and in invisibility you might even be able to change the ratios yourself. Yes, yes, it's a very good idea. The scientist brightened with renewed hope. Of course I'll chance it. When do I start? Dantor grinned in appreciation and Yu' na looked up at him, starry eyed. I'm going with you, she stated simply. Not on your life. There'll be danger. I won't have it. Nevertheless, I'm going. There's another cloak. And besides, the danger would be greater if I were alone. Where you go, I go. And if you die, I die with you. Gladly. She twined her fingers with his and gazed at him appealingly. Dantor, this can't be. He turned to the scientist for support. The aged scientist studied the two a little while and then said, I am afraid it is better as she wishes, Carson. I am unable to protect her, my boy, and there is no one else who might give her shelter. We are the last of the Roulans. She and I, the very last. Oh, Yulana moaned, pale and distraught.
- [126:38]
A
All.
- [126:38]
B
All are gone. All, my dear. In his rage, the dictator destroyed the Trittu Dinu and the Trittu Raurtu when he had finished here. Those were the last settlements remaining, you know. We alone are left behind, Ulana. Dantor bowed his head and the girl sobbed silently. Good heavens. Blaine Carson was aghast at the revelation. A monstrous deed, this last one of Ioneto's. He was a fit master of a world gone mad, a monster in the twisted semblance of human form. He will be searching for you, O Dantor, the girl said with sudden conviction. She had mastered her emotions and was instantly alert to every angle of the situation. That is true, said the old man gravely. For myself, I have nothing to fear. Of course, though insanely jealous of my accomplishments, he maintains an armed truce with me. He dares not do otherwise, as the Supreme Council is aware of his shortcomings and cognizant of my superior knowledge of science. But there is danger to you two. You must make haste. A trembling of the ground beneath them lent added emphasis to his final words. A quick glance into the crystal told them that the initial charge was at work in the huge rocket tube. The laboratory there at its base was in confusion, indescribable. The workmen running hither and yon in the effort to escape the terrific heat that radiated from the red hot breach of the tube. They jammed the exits in their anxiety to be anywhere but near this monster source of energy, whose pulsating roar drowned out all other sounds in the vast chamber. Already Antrid was accelerating in velocity. Her vitals were wrenched and twisted, groaning in protest. Quick now. Blaine was adjusting one of the invisible cloaks for Elana. He'd have to take her with him. A silent prayer for her safety was on his lips. Invisible now and hand in hand, they followed Dantor through the deserted passageways to the lift which carried them quickly to the roof. A drumming sound came to their ears as they stood there, looking up into the blackness above the blue white lights of Antrid, vibrating to the tremendous roar of the rocket tube. The copper shell emitted a constantly increasing reverberation that was like a long drawn peal of thunder on Earth or ve between us. It was awe inspiring, that sonorous bombilation deafening. Dantor was fumbling with the mechanisms of the remote control which Titus had used in returning the basket lift to the car that had brought the two Earthmen from Islundar. Again and again he returned to his manipulations after peering anxiously upward, but the basket did not respond to the call. They were marooned atop the empty shell of the trittuanu. Carson. Uleana, where are you? The aged scientist shouted above the din, his face a tragic mask, his lips compressed with anxiety and disappointment. They grasped him to reassure him, each taking a hand. Carson, placing his lips close to the old man's ear, inquired anxiously, how? What's the trouble? The car does not respond. Something has happened to the motors, probably on account of the vibration. I can do nothing. And then, piercingly, through the thunderings of the copper shell, a voice broke in Ioneto's voice. Dantor. It shrieked. At last I have found you. I need your help immediately. Wait there for the monorail. Dantor gripped them tightly to enjoin silence. Ioneto had located the scientist with the searching ray and was still watching and listening at his crystal. He seemed not to know that Blaine and Yulana were there. Very well, o anito. I shall wait. Dantor shouted. It is good. There is important work to be done. Ioneto's words trailed off into the maelstrom of sound that swirled about them. He's cut off. The scientist yelled. There is but one chance now. You must come with me, depending on absolute silence and your cloaks to deceive them. It is the only way. Ulena clung to him there in the terrifying bedlam, and Blaine's finger strayed to the comforting butt of the ray pistol. Whatever happened, there were a few changes left, blasts of energy that would serve at least to postpone the end for Ulana. Or if worst came to worst, the sudden rush of a monorail car high overhead interrupted his thoughts. Close to me now. Dander shouted. But have a care lest one of them touch you and discover. A cable hung cage dropped swiftly to the roof, and they crowded in beside the scientist. Quickly it whisked them aloft to the higher plane. In the monorail car, Blaine held the girl close, and they trod softly as they dodged the guard at the porthole and stepped into the passenger compartment. Two of Ioneto's technical experts were there, and a crew of at least a dozen of the green bronze giants. Unseen by any, the couple tiptoed to the farthest corner of the compartment and took seats in a recessed section. With a quick jerk and the rising whine of the motors, the suspended vehicle started back in the direction of Islle. In darling. In earnest conversation with Ioneto's engineers, Dantor affected an air of nonchalance that was artfully disarming the lotus suspected nothing as the car continued on its way. And then there came an ominous grinding sound from underneath the very seat occupied by the invisible fugitives. A puff of dense black smoke followed, and Yulana coughed spasmodically, uncontrollably. They were coming now, two of the green's bronze ones, to investigate. There was no escape from this narrow space, and Uleanna was gone. She had slipped from his grasp in the coughing fit, and he could not find her with his wildly searching hands. Another betraying cough. Over there. The green bronze ones were between them. He saw one of them draw back in amazement, then clench his fingers and twist. The ripping sound of torn material followed, and the girl's head and startled face appeared, floating there, unsupported, her body and limbs yet invisible. But they'd found her. She was lost. End of section 8. Section 9 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harl Vincent the Copper Clad World Chapter nine Ioneto quickly stripping the protecting cloak from her body, the green bronze one held the struggling girl, gingerly but with a grip of iron. His eyes bulged from their sockets, and the other guards staggered backward with hands outstretched as if to ward off an evil spell that might be cast by this supernatural visitant. Blaine thrust his arm through the folds of his coat, ray pistol in hand. A crazy laugh forced itself to his lips at sight of the detached member stretched there, tense, drifting in mid air. The pistol prodded Uleanna's captor viciously. Hands off her. The voice behind the lone arm was snarling. Hands off or I fire. The girl slipped to the floor in a heap as the amazed guard loosened his grip, and in the same instant the blue flame spurted. He had not intended to press the release it was useless anyway to battle the entire outfit. But the blood lust was upon him, and a savage joy in the destruction of this beast, who had already dared lay hands on Lana, impelled him to turn on the other. Blindly he swung, clubbing the pistol and beating in the ghastly face that wobbled there upon the spineless superstition bound body. Others were coming then, hundreds of them, it seemed. The pale face of Dantor appeared for an instant in the background through the red haze that was blinding him. He only knew he was fighting desperately, viciously, and against impossible odds. The satisfying crunch of his left fist against a leering green bronze face was followed by an excruciating pain as one of his knuckles was driven back. Hardly knowing he had pressed the release of the ray, he was mildly astonished to see that two of the guards were enveloped in blue vapour, scintillant tiny sunbursts within the blue two less of those devils. His pistol was empty, and he flung it into a grinning face. He saw the blood spurt and the face change shape, crushed beyond human resemblance. He was down then, grasping for breath against the floor plates. The weight upon him was enormous, crushing. If only they'd quit squirming so, and pounding reminded him of his old football days. Some scrimmage. Abruptly came the blackness of insensibility, dimly at first in the painful throbbings of returning consciousness. Blaine knew he was in one of the lot workshops, where machines hummed and pounded and where many operatives were busily engaged. A cool hand stroked his aching brow and he opened his eyes. Uleana. They had spared her. Alert on the instant, he was acutely aware of the babbling of voices close at hand. Ioneto was there, at the base of the huge telescope, talking with Dantor, his voice raised excitedly. The monorail crew stood by, and he noted with grim satisfaction that several of them were as badly damaged as he could wish. His gaze returned to the sweet face that bent so near. Weakly he drew the golden head to his breast, held it there a moment, thinking, hoping, planning. Then he sat upon the edge of the low couch on which he had been placed, regarding her anxiously. Evidently they had not harmed her as yet. Ioannido had dismissed the green bronze ones and was approaching the couch. Dantor was with him, lagging a little and pressing a finger to his lips, shaking his head gravely to warn them they must not speak of the plans made in the trittu Annu must not talk. The dictator was regarding them now with hard eyes, but it seemed almost that something of admiration or respect, something of human like emotion, was in his cold stare. Ha. He grunted at last. What's up everybody?
- [138:18]
A
It's Bretzky and America is turning 250 and I can't think of a better
- [138:23]
B
way way to celebrate that than playing
- [138:25]
A
on an American owned social casino.
- [138:28]
B
Spinquest.com with all of your favorite games, live crafts, bubble craps, live blackjack, there's no better place to play for free
- [138:37]
A
and win real cash prizes. Spinquest.com Spin Quest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [138:48]
B
These two are in love. Dantor. It is, as you explained, it is good and fits in with my plans to a nicety. I shall spare the life of the Earthman on account of his knowledge of the inner planets. I can use him later. The girl I shall spare for a different reason, and that fits in with my plans as well. What did he mean by that last crack? The grinning devil. A sinister intent was there behind his smooth talk. Blaine half rose from his seat in quick anger, but the girl's gentle touch on his arm restrained him. She depended on him now, and he'd have to go easy until the proper time came. Impetuous, aren't they? Ioneta was saying, these Earth men. A characteristic that must get them into much trouble even in their own world. Laughing at him, this hellbound, Blaine gritted his teeth. The dictator addressed him directly. You are a fortunate young man, he drawled sarcastically. You have slain several of my trusted retainers, and by so doing have forfeited your right to life. But Ioannido is forgiving, mechanized. You will be of value to me when the great day comes, and it pleases me that you are so deeply attached to the Roulan Maiden. It pleases me greatly. Why? Blaine snapped, a great rage consuming him. Only the pressure of Yelana's fingers held him back. He would have to control his temper or he'd make a mess of things. Because, my dear Carson, it will so displease the Zara. With this cryptic remark, he turned on his heel and left them. A number of his technical experts awaited him at the eyepiece of the great telescope. Dantor whispered swiftly before following him. Keep up your courage, Carson. A way may yet be found. The group by the telescope was an excited one. Something had occurred which must be of great moment. It came to blain in a flash that the reverberations of the copper shell of Antrid had ceased. The rocket tube was silent. I don't know why we shouldn't be in on this, he said to the girl. Let's go over there and see what it's all about. One of the astronomers was reporting to Ioneto, referring to a sheet of calculations he held in nervous fingers. Our ordible velocity has increased greatly, he was saying, and the new path lies at an average distance of 83 herds from the mother planet. According to my figures, it will require six more charges to free us from her pull, and another to redirect us toward our destination. 83 herds. Practically a million Earth miles. Already they had swung out to a new orbit between those of Ganymede and Callisto. And what of the effect on the other satellites? Blaine listened carefully as the astronomer continued. Perturbations in the movements of the other bodies in our own system are marked, and in the case of the first satellite have proved disastrous. It has commenced its inward journey and will soon have fallen into the gaseous envelope of the mother body. But this need occasion us no concern. It is small, and there will be stabilization of the others after the second charge is fired. Colossal conceit. What amazing ignorance or oversight of natural laws. These lot scientists could see no farther than their snubbed noses, or at least no farther than the satellite system of Jupiter. And Ioneto was complimenting the astronomer on his good work. The group broke up now, and the dictator turned to the controls of his crystal sphere. Blaine and Ulana caught the view of the underground laboratory at the base of the great rocket tube. All was as it had been when they first saw this chamber. The breach of the huge cannon had cooled and its massive block was open. Tommy was there, fishing the radium capsule from the powdery residue in order that it might be used in exciting the next charge. A mechanical precision marked his every motion. It is good. Ioannido grunted, flicking a lever that cut off the view. We are progressing nicely, thanks to the generosity of the Earth beings in providing this k metal. His sarcastic grin was infuriating. Dantor cast a warning look in the Earthman's direction. It wouldn't do to lock horns with this self satisfied despot. At any rate, not now. Blaine's mian was expressionless as he faced him. The view in the crystal was now another familiar one. When Leonitto made a quick adjustment the throne room in the palace of the Zara. The dictator snorted when he saw that Leone was reclining lazily on her golden couch, submitting graciously to the ministrations of her handmaidens. Faithless creature, he snarled. Harlot parricide. But at last Ioneto will have his revenge. The hate in his voice and in those terrible glass hard eyes was devastating in its intensity, implacable, relentless. Yet Blaine could not down the exultant feeling that came to him when he saw that this monster could suffer too. What's the matter? He sneered. Did she throw you down? He could have bitten off his tongue as he spoke. Ulana gasped, and if Ioneto had been in a rage before, he was a madman now. Despite his contempt of the misshapen creature, Blaine quailed before the murderous glare that answered his rash words. But the dictator was master of himself at that. His lips tightened in a thin line and he held his peace. He actually smiled after a moment. The devil. A smile though of evil triumph. He turned once more to the crystal and switched on the sound mechanism. Cleon, he called in a velvety voice. It is Ioneto. She looked up, startled, her chalky face gone whiter still. Her jeweled fingers fluttered to the smooth throat. I hear you, she replied shakily. What do you wish of me? Nothing much this time. I have visitors who request an audience with you, O Cleon. Can you see them at once? Who? Who are they? Her eyes widened at his insinuating tone. An Earthman, Carson, and the Rulin maiden who is to become his mate. Iannitto chuckled evilly as he watched her expression. Carson, she whispered, her wild eyes softening. He. He lives. Black hatred replaced the wondering joy that had glowed in her face. She was thinking of the statement regarding the Rulin maiden. Why yes, she snapped suddenly very much alert. I can see them. Send them immediately. The dictator chortled as he switched off the power. Dantor paled and looked away. So this was his scheme. He was sending Uleanna to certain death at the hands of the leopard woman. Blaine bit his lips until they bled. If only he had one of their ray pistols again. If he had. Ioneta was at his side, whispering, but he couldn't see him. The devil had donned one of Dantor's invisible cloaks. Something hard pressed deep into his ribs. I shall be with you, the dictator told him. But she will not know. It is necessary, of course, that I watch over you in order that your deportment be suitable to the occasion. The death ray of Antrid is ready in my hands. Proceed, you and the Roulan maid, and see to it that you give her every attention while in the Tsar's presence. Dantor interposed an objection. But Ioneto, you promised to spare them. I learned to love these two and want no harm to come their way. I keep my promise, O Dantor. Ioneto will not harm them. But the Zara. What Cleon does is none of my concern. Silence, Dantor. I command it. You will remain here. The voice of the dictator cut like a knife. The old Rulan scientist bowed his head and turned away. Good old Dantor. He had done all in his power to help them. This was the end. Not a question of doubt. Blaine Carson drew the Roulan maiden fiercely to him. This Cleon might meet some opposition. If she attempted to wreak or spite on Yulana, she would meet it. There was no need for Ioneto to ask that he pay every attention to the lovely, frightened girl who clung to him so trustingly. They were in the lift then, dropping swiftly into the palace beneath the great dome that topped Antred. This Cleon, ulana whispered. She has great power of enticement, my Carson. I fear for your loss to me. She will take you from me, and I shall be alone or dead. Death would be the better. Never, said Blaine huskily. Never, my dear. She has no power over me, nor will I permit her to bring suffering to you. Iannitto laughed then, an ugly cackle that came out of the unseen end of section 9. Section 10 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent the Copper clad World Chapter 10 Cleon and Ulana hey everybody.
- [149:05]
A
Lady luck here and we're celebrating America's 250th birthday. Now, all summer long I'm going to be celebrating by playing on FinQuest, which is an American owned social casino. It obviously features over a thousand slot games and live blackjack, live craps, live bubble crafts. Head on over to spinquest.com get yourself a $30 coin pack for just 10 bucks. Spin Quest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [149:35]
B
The Zara received them in the throne room, alone. Blaine hesitated as he crossed the threshold, Ulana's trembling fingers tightly clasped in his own. The quick prod of the invisible ray pistol warned him that Ioneta was at his heels. Cleon uncurled her sinuous black sheathed body and rose to her feet as they neared the dais. Welcome, O Carson, she purred. Cleon has mourned you as dead, but she mourns no longer. A kind fate has returned you. The gold flecked eyes were all for him. It was as if she did not see his companion. Blaine fought the spell of her with all that was in him. He did not reply. Come to me, Carson, she pleaded, her lashes lowered. Leave this Roulan girl and come to me. Where I go, she goes, he replied firmly. Very well then, said the Tsar. Bring her with you. I would converse with her, as with you. Something new. This was a gentleness Blaine had never thought the leopard woman could exhibit, even in sham. And her eyes, when she raised them, were still gentle. She extended a white arm and smiled provocatively. If this was a ruse, if she meant harm to the Roulan maid, her acting was superb. And from what he had seen of the woman previously, he was almost convinced of her sincerity. A nature like hers was incapable of successful dissimulation. Still, he was suspicious, and he shielded Ulanna with his body as they came up to the throne. The Zara studied them in silence for a while. Then she spoke. Let me look at you, my dear, she said to the Roulan maiden, and Ulana, unafraid, faced her boldly. His muscles tensed. Blaine watched every movement of the Zara's strained fingers, but her gaze was direct and kindly. There was no dissembling here. It was not the same Cleon he had previously known. You are very beautiful, Ulana, she said softly. Do you love this earthman very much? I do, your Majesty. And you, Carson? You love her very much? His answer was wordless. A sudden lump in his throat choked back the vigorous affirmative, and he merely nodded, mute, as he enfolded the slight form of Uleanna in his arms. Carson, are you sure? Cleon was pleading, her eyes compelling, tender. Ulana drew away from his arms, waiting. What had come over the leopard woman? She was a creature of mad vagaries, he knew, and yet this was the most convincing mood he had seen, despite his knowledge of her past. Despite his better judgment, he was drawn toward her. A step, then a quick revulsion of feeling. He recoiled and turned swiftly to Uleanna. Cleon saw and understood. Her tender mood was over in a flash, and she crouched there, terrible jealous eyes fixed on the Roulan maiden. She extended a wide arm with jewelled fingers pointing. Blaine swung quickly, brushing the arm aside just as that intangible something flashed from her hand. The energy of the black disks. It had missed Ulana by inches, but crashed home on something. A scream of terror rang out in the chamber, and there, on the floor, a dozen paces from the dais, the thing that had been Ioneto wriggled under a heap of whirling black things that suddenly covered the invisible form. He wriggled and then lay still as the angry buzzing of the black destroyers rose in triumphant, discordant song. Ioneto, the tsar exclaimed, thunderstruck. He was here. He was, Blaine assured her in an awed voice. Invisible, O Zara in a cloak contrived by Dantor, the Roulan scientist. Then blind rage came over him. She had tried to kill Yulana before his eyes. You she devil. He roared. I have half a mind to choke the wild life from your tainted body. Damn you. May the heat devils of mercury burn and sear and shrivel you in everlasting torment. She cowered as if he had struck her, and unaccountably he was ashamed, cursing her like a schoolboy and using the language of the lower class Venerians. Please, Carson, please, she moaned. Do it. Choke me if you will, and release me from my torment. I am yours to do with as you please. Throwing back her proud head, she bared her throat. Blaine took a step forward, his knees weak beneath him. Carson. It was Uleana. Her hand soft on his arm, he drew the back of his hand across his eyes. This was madness. But was ever a woman so deserving of death? Incomprehensible, half animal creature. She sat there rocking to and frozen, waiting. No, he said. No. Only let us go in peace, Cleon. Your sins be on your own head. Your realization of them is punishment enough. Wait. Controlling herself now, she rose once more, and her face was transfigured almost it seemed that she was happy. Wait, she repeated. You are free to go when I have finished. But first Cleon wishes to bid you farewell. They faced her in silent wonderment. Ioneto is gone, she continued, and the Lota are helpless without him unless I take over their leadership. In fact, he was my master, I admit. But Cleon is able to carry on with the plans he conceived. Able, but no longer willing. Cleon is abdicating it, but remains for you, Carson, to put a stop to this thing they are doing down there at the great rocket tube. You can do it, I am certain. Go now, and think not too badly of Cleonhe when you have gone. Farewell. With a quick motion, she raised her fingers to her lips, then tossed a small vial crashing to the floor. Carson, she has taken something. Ulana stifled a hysterical sob as she spoke. Go to her. It's the least you can do. Blaine caught the leopard woman in his arms and lowered her gently to the luxurious cushions of the throne she had occupied for so long a time. A queen in name only. Already the gold flecked eyes were glazing, and they begged him piteously, kiss me. Her lips formed the words, but no sound came. Ulana was there on her knees, crying. Carson, you must, she urged him. The spirit of Cleon, with its great burden of evil and some little of good, left the beautiful body as the Earthman pressed his lips to hers. An unwonted smile, placid and content, wreathed the still features. The Zara was no more. Stunned and shaken by what they had seen, they hurried from the Chamber of Death. Blaine located the lift, and they were quickly carried to the laboratory. Dantor was there, working with the astronomers, and Blaine drew him Aside, whispering the story in his ear in swift, disjointed sentences, the aged scientist could scarcely credit his senses. The thrumming of the copper shell to the energy of the second rock tube charge came but faintly to their ears in this place, since the vacuum of the outer space surrounded the great domed structure. But the vibration and quakings of the satellite were transmitted to the floor plates on which they stood. They knew that Antrid was swinging ever outward from the mother planet. You must do it alone, Dantor was saying. You and Ulana. I have no control over these Lota. I am here only on sufferance of Ioneto, and Ioneto is no more. But they know it. Not these in the dome think he is with you now, cloaked in invisibility. The tail of the cloaks has been broadcast. You are safe for the present and can descend to the base of the rocket with impunity. Ioneto's name is the password. And here is a ray pistol, fully charged. Two of them. He left them in his desk. Go now, quickly. The way. How do we get there? Blaine's fingers closed lovingly over the butts of the pistols, and he thrust them in his pockets. Oh yes, the lift. The one that carried you to the palace. Its shaft ends deep down beneath the natural surface of Antrid, in a tunnel where a moving platform will carry you to your friend. May your God and the gods of ancient Antrid be with you. Once more they were in the cage of the lift, dropping with breathtaking speed down into the bowels of the satellite. They sped, and it seemed the shaft would never end. Then they were in the tunnel Dantor had told them about. Smooth walls speeding past as the swiftly moving platform carried them on. The great arched chamber opened before them at last, and they saw that the workmen were returning to their tasks. The huge breech of the rocket tube had cooled to a dimly visible red, the second charge having done its work. Hands in his pockets and walking stiffly as if mechanized, the Earthman presented himself before the guard at the entrance. Ulana pressed close to his side. He feigned the hypnotic state. The anitto, he repeated in jerky syllables, acting the part, he sent us with message for Farley. The guard grinned. Even here, the story of the Earthman and the Roulan maiden was known. The strange leniency of Ioneto in permitting them to remain together was the topic of the day. He waved them through with an indulgent gesture. Ioneto knew what he was about and would have his little joke later. Tom Farley was there, waiting with the LOT scientists till the breech block could have cooled sufficiently to permit them to open it and prepare the third charge. A flicker of recognition in his glazed eyes told Blaine he was not altogether gone, but Tommy gave no other outward sign. Perhaps with the anito no longer alive, the mental control would become ineffective. They had not long to wait, for the breach was water jacketed and cooled rapidly. Blaine puttered around with the unfamiliar test tubes and retorts, watching for a chance to get a word with Tommy in private. He was almost certain that his friend was recovering. Ulana sat there on a greasy bench, regarding the scene with anxious eyes. She was a brick game as they made them. Tommy was beside him then, weighing a heap of the dry soil for the next charge. Are you all right? Blaine whispered, but Tom Farley stared back with not a glimmer of comprehension. He was still a victim of the mechanizing process of the lota. With a carefully planned but seemingly careless gesture, Blaine slid back the weight on the scale arm. This charge would be short of the proper ratio of dry soil. He wondered what the effect would be. One of the LOT scientists came over then with the radium capsule, and Tommy attached it to the clamp that would hold it in contact with the cube of K metal. The dry soil was shoveled into the breech block by the unsuspecting lotta, and the thing was ready for the placing of the excitant. The great breech block swung home and a siren shrieked. All work in the laboratory was suspended, and the workmen stood around in expectant silence. Blaine found himself worrying as to the possible result of his tampering. I saw you, tommy hissed, then in his ear. There'll be hell to pay. Now we gotta beat it. Good old Tommy. He'd recovered after all. He too had been shamming. At the last Blaine saw they were unobserved and thrust one of the pistols into his hand. Now, his friend rasped, before they get wise, grab the girl and we'll make a break for the tunnel entrance over there. Uleanna took in the situation at a glance and was at his side. They moved swiftly in the direction of the entrance through which they had come. A terrific roar came from the base of the rocket tube and the loader broke into excited screechings. Something different about it this time. There was a terrible, menacing note in the jarring thump which preceded the roar. A muffled boom high in the five mile depth of rock strata above them spelled disaster of an unknown and terrifying nature. The breach of the tube was white with heat in an instant of time. Pandemonium broke loose now, and the Earthmen were running for the exit to the lift. Covering their retreat with brandished gray pistols, Ulana ran alongside, swinging a pinch bar she had picked up, ready to help. End of section 10. Section 11 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent the Copper clad World Chapter 11 Disaster the Great crystal sphere on the central pedestal was ablaze with the scarlet warning signal of the Supreme Council. A sonorous voice from its depths boomed out above the clamor. Kill them. Kill the Earth men. It roared. The Tsar is dead and Ioneto has vanished. Denari has mounted the throne and it is he who commands you. Kill the traitors. But the Loda and the green Bronze Guards needed no command from the new ruler of Antred. These devils from Earth had tampered with the last rocket tube charge probably had caused serious damage to the tube itself. They must die. Only the guards were armed, and the Lotus swarmed so closely in pursuit of the fugitives that it was impossible for them to use their ray pistols. At the great iron gate that now closed the exit stood the guard who had admitted them. Tommy's pistol spurted blue flame and he was enveloped by the destroying energy. Ulana screamed as a Lot grasped her, wrenching the iron bar from her hands. Blaine covered the intervening distance in a bound, and his fist crashed into the fellow's jaw, snapping back his head and lifting him off his feet. He crashed to the floor plates, an inert heap, and the Earthman recovered the pinch bar. Pocketing his pistol, he swung the bar with both hands in mighty circles that took terrible toll of the Lota. They fell back before the onslaught of the infuriated terrestrial, leaving eight of their number dead or dying with crushed skulls and broken ribs and arms. Open the gate, Tommy. He shouted. Use your pistol on the lock if you have to. A guard was coming at him, and he ducked to the floor as the blue flame crackled, singeing the hair from his head and blistering the scalp as it spent its charge in fusing a cross member from one of the steel columns nearby. He fired from under his prostrate body, and the guard thrashed his arms wildly in the blue mist, then stiffened to a sparkling, vanishing figure within the dissipating vapour. A gas grenade burst at his side, and Blaine sprang to his feet, running from the spreading Sulphurous cloud. The gate was open and its lock dropped molten metal. Good old Tommy. The poison gas hid them from the pursuers for the moment, and they were through the gate. All three. Get back. Blaine shouted. The gas. He held his breath and closed his eyes as he slammed the gate and wedged it with the pinch bar he still carried that would hold them for a while. The gas was upon him and his skin flamed scorching hot from the contact. He mustn't breathe, mustn't open his eyes. He groped there in the scalding vapor. Blindly, Tommy had him by the wrist then, dragging him away. Yulana was calling. Somewhere there in the darkness. His lungs were bursting. And then he knew the air was pure and he exhaled the long pent breath noisily and inhaled deeply. Eyes smarting and head reeling, he saw Yuana through a haze of dancing smoke, wisps he knew were illusory. She was safe, thank God. They were on the moving platform, then on the return side, and his strength was returning. Narrow escape he had from that lung rotting gas. Uleana smiled happily. When his vision cleared, the speeding platform carried them swiftly toward the lift that had brought them down. What if the lift would not operate? This denarii might well have shut off the power, or even returned the cage to the upper end of the shaft. Boy, oh boy, tommy was saying. You sure did gum up the works. Know what happened? Plenty, from the look of things. Blaine smiled grimly. I'll say you cut down the dry soil ratio a third. Not sure of the exact reaction, but the expansion was too rapid. Explosion followed before the air could be driven from the tube. I'll bet the big cannon was wrecked somewhere overhead. Boy, what a blast. As if the last sentence were a prophecy, there came a terrific jar that twisted the platform violently from under them. They were thrown headlong, and an awe inspiring rumbling came up from the vitals of Antrid. An earthquake. The tortured satellite could not withstand the strains set up by the tremendous reactive force of the rocket tube. The light snuffed out and the platform came to a grinding stop. One of the underground power plants was out of commission, and they were trapped here in the stifling darkness. Nice fix we're in now. Tommy grunted where he had fallen. Blaine, having located Ulana, was relieved to find that she was unharmed. Yes, he said slowly. But there is one thing sure. They can't follow us here unless they walk. Why can't we walk? Uleana asked with forced cheerfulness. It isn't far now. Oh, we can Walk. All right, we'll have to. And here's hoping we get somewhere. Tommy, at least, was undaunted. So far it was their only chance Now. Blaine held fast to the girl as they felt their way along the smooth tunnel wall, and Tom Farley behind them there in the darkness kept up a running fire of small talk that was utterly irrelevant. Hey everybody.
- [169:48]
A
Lady Luck here and we're celebrating America's 250th birthday. Now all summer long I'm going to be celebrating by playing on spinquest.com which is an American owned social casino. It obviously features over a thousand slot games and live blackjack, live craps, live bubble craps. Head on over to spinquest.com get yourself a $30 coin pack for just 10 bucks. Spin Quest is a free to play social casino. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [170:18]
B
Nothing could keep that Irishman down. After what seemed like miles of steady plodding, they glimpsed a light ahead. They quickened their pace. It was the open door at the base of the shaft, and the cage of the lift was there, fully lighted and waiting. Danari had not shut the power off after all, but of course it came to Blaine in a flash. This was a private shaft used by Ioneto in his candlesticked visits to the palace of the Zara and for his own use in descending to the subsurface chamber at the base of the rocket tube. Denarii did not even know it existed. Strange they had not been followed. Surely the Loda would have forced the gate back there in a comparatively short time. A mass of falling rock shaken loose by the trembler that cut off their light and stopped the moving platform must have closed the tunnel. They were in the cage now, shooting aloft with smooth acceleration. Tommy fidgeted and paced the floor in the narrow confines like a caged animal. Lord, man, he said after a while. What I wouldn't give for a cigarette. Is that all you can think of? Blaine was sarcastic. His own nerves were on edge. They were nearing the upper end of the shaft. Try to do a little thinking about what is going to happen up there above Ellendar. We've got to do some tall figuring and some swift scrapping before we're through. Sure. Tommy shrugged his shoulders. There'll be a lot of fireworks, I guess, but I wish I had a smoke just the same. Yulana pouted. They spoke in English and she did not understand, but the expression of their faces forced a laugh to her lips, one of those silvery tinkles that caught at Blaine's heartstrings All that mattered now was to see her to safety and happiness. The cage slowed up and came to a rest as the automatic control of its gravity energy functioned. The door rolled back and Blaine thrust his head through the opening, pistol in hand. There, on the floor of the corridor that led to the great dome room, was a crumpled figure. Dantor. It couldn't be that they had slain him. Blaine was on his knees by the body, raising the blood smeared head with gentle hands. A deep gash extended from over the right temple up into the scalp, and the skull was crushed. A mortal wound, but the doughty heart of the aged scientist still beat on weakly but with determination. He opened his eyes and smiled. Ah, you have come at last, he sighed. I have waited here to warn you and advise you. Easy now. Blaine straightened the helpless limbs and cradled the drooping head on his knees. Uleana was beside him, bravely holding back the sobs that were in her throat. I saw in the crystal, dandor whispered. And Denarii struck me down when I expressed relief at your escape. Carson, Ulana Farley, you can escape if you do as I say. Antred is doomed. The incorrectly proportioned charge burst the rocket tube in several places and tore the muzzle asunder where it projected from the copper shell of our world. With the explosion of the muzzle, a huge section of the copper casing was blown away, and the atmosphere of Antrid is now escaping rapidly into the vacuum of space. Dantor closed his eyes and a spasm of pain twisted his features. Tommy expelled a shuddering breath, solemnly expressive. The aged scientist fought off the grim specter valiantly. He patted Yolana's hand as his weak voice resumed. You will take care of her, I know, Carson. Take her with you to your own world. Make her happy. He fell silent once more. But how? Blaine whispered. Oh yes, I am forgetting the side passage. Next one on the right. It leads to a storeroom of the oxygen helmets and vacuum tight suits in which you can step forth from the adjoining airlock. Your spaceship is there, unharmed in it you will be able to return and But Dander's spirit had fled the pain racked body. Blaine closed his lids and stretched him on the hard metal floor, crossing the thin hands on his breast. Ulana sobbed openly for a moment and then bowed her head in silence. The last of the Roulans, blaine said softly, looking down at all that was mortal of the Roulan scientist. No, ulanna whispered. I am the last, my Carson. You'll become a good American, sweetheart, he said gently. That is, if we get away from Here there was no time to be lost at that. At any moment this denarii might find them. Come, he begged, drawing her from the body. We must hurry. Following the passage indicated by Dantor, they came at last to an open door. A noticeable draught blew outward, and Blaine thought grimly of the scenes that were being enacted throughout Antrid. The air that made life possible was escaping, and the new broadcasts from Ellendar would have notified the entire population by this time. There would be rioting, panics, murder, and suicide in the cities of the accursed Lotta and in their subject countries. A frantic effort of the scientists to stop the gap would avail them nothing. It was an impossible task now. The construction of the great Shell had been a different matter. There was some natural atmosphere remaining in those days, and finally they would suffocate every last one of them. They'd die miserably, purple of face and with swollen tongues protruding. The open door led to a railed in balcony that looked out over the dome room. Machines still hunt there, but the place was deserted save for a few scattered corpses, probably those of the Lotta who had objected when Denari usurped the throne. A second door opened from the balcony into the storeroom of the moon suits. At least these helmeted contraptions resembled the so called moon suits used by the inhabitants of the inner planets when they visited a body having no atmosphere. Yulana needed some assistance with the bulky equipment, and then Blaine climbed into another of the suits and locked his helmet. A moment later they were in the airlock with Tommy, who had attired himself more quickly and was operating the controls in the outer hatch. They waited until the air pressure reduced to a practically complete vacuum. Their suits distended ludicrously now by the pressure within. They unclamped the hatch and stepped out on to the surface of the great copper shell. It vibrated under their feet to the blast from the huge gap that was not five miles distant. The RX8 was there, as Dantor had said, a slim tapered cylinder that gleamed a thing of beauty in the reflected light of Jupiter, which was now millions of miles distant. The sun was not visible, and the light of the mother planet cast long shadows on the copper plates. Pelting ice particles clattered soundlessly against the metal helmets, frozen moisture from the escaping air of Antriding. Blaine cried out in surprise, then remembered his companions could not hear him. There were moving shadows over there, four of them nearing the hull of the RX8. The Loda had beat them to it, Denarii, no doubt intending to escape with a chosen few of his subjects. He broke into a run through the now blinding hailstorm. He would have to head them off, else Ulana was lost. They were all lost. End of section 11. Section 12 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harl Vincent the Copper clad World Chapter 12 the Last of Antred Tommy was running beside him now, and Ulana not far behind. They too had seen the danger. If they could not reach the vessel ahead of the Lota would not fight them off and gain possession. It was all off. They'd die here horribly on the roof of Antred, and the ray pistols were useless. They could not be fired inside the ballooning fabric of their suits without destroying it and themselves. There were only the hooks that were attached to the bulging sleeves, iron hooks for lifting, but these were heavy and sharp, pointed. They might be of some use at that. Once they were completely blinded by a deluge of ice particles, Blaine could see neither the RX8 nor the waddling figures of the Lota. He clung to his companions by means of the hooks interlocking his with theirs, and waited for the storm to ease off, if ever it would. Pressing the thick glass window of his helmet against that of Ulana's, he saw that her eyes were wide with terror, but she smiled bravely and nodded encouragement. What a girl. There was a momentary clearing a little way from the white wall, and he saw the hull of the ship, a dim shape that loomed suddenly distinct and near. They dashed for the open port, still holding together. One of the bulging helmeted Loda had reached the port and was scrambling inside. Blaine loosed himself and pounced on him, swinging one of his hooks in a sweeping clawing arc. It caught in the fabric of the fellow's suit, ripping a foot long slit like a punctured balloon. It deflated and became a shrivelled, clinging thing. The lot hung there over the rim of the port, instantly suffocated and frozen stiff in the vacuum and intense cold of space. As the air and heat of the suit was dissipated, Blaine dragged the rigid body from the opening and flung it to the white powdered copper surface. Wheeling, he saw that another of the Loda had engaged Tommy. Two of them, in fact. There were three swollen figures in that mix up, and the fourth was advancing on a smaller figure that turned and Ranulana. In a flash he was after them Tom Farley would have to look out for himself, poor devil. With two of them against him, the outcome was dubious. And then came a second snow like deluge of white particles. He stumbled on, groping blindly, slipping, sliding in the precarious footing. It was ankle deep now, that powdery carpet of ice particles. Oh God, if that lot devil got Ulana. He groaned aloud, a hideous mournful echo in the confines of the helmet. Groping, staggering. There in the wide silence, he gave up hope, the white carpeted shell of Antrid heaving mightily from the force of some new concussion within and threw Blaine scrambling, crawling now, feeling his way over the shuddering surface, he saw a dim huddled mass there in the pelting rain of ice, moving. It was two bloated figures, one large and one small, rolling over and over Ulana and the lot who had chased her. He was there in one mad scramble and dragged the fellow from her, was astride the rubber inflated covering, clawing and tearing. The thing collapsed and went flat between his knees. He saw the mist of moisture laden escaping air, felt the quick swelling and the jarring collapse as internal organs exploded from the atmospheric pressure inside the brute's body. Nauseated, he crawled away from the dead, grotesque looking figure. Uleana was on her knees, endeavouring to get to her feet. She had not been harmed, thanks to his good fortune in finding them. But where was the RX8? In the awful white silence, broken only by the eerie patter of the ice particles on helmets and fabric, all sense of direction was lost through the double thickness of helmet lenses. He looked into Ulana's eyes for the last time, he thought, and then the white shroud lifted once more. The ship was there, not a hundred yards distant. Tommy still battled one of the lota, desperately circling the wary, grotesquely bobbing figure and swinging those terrible slashing hooks. The other was down, almost covered with white. Out of the picture, that one. But the remaining lot was giving his friend a tough time of it. With the girl clinging to him, their arms hooked fast. He scuttled over the treacherous ice, powdered copper. He had to get there quickly and help Tom Farley slipped and fell heavily. The lot was on him in a flash and they struggled madly there in splashings of white that hid them from view for a moment. Then one of them was up and the other lay still, a surprisingly shrunken and motionless figure. The victor was coming at him then, bloated arms lashing out in swift vicious circles. He had got Tommy, the damned swine. Blaine met his rush with a flying tackle. That brought him down, crashing. He lay still, the devil knocked out probably by the metal helmet contacting with his skull. With arm poised for that slashing swing that would have sent him into eternity. Blaine peered through the lens of his helmet. His heart stopped beating and the upraised arm fell limp. This was no lot. It was Tom Farley. Good Lord, he would have killed him in another second. He tried to shake him, to bring him to, but he couldn't get hold of the bulging suit anywhere without danger of slashing it with one of those hooks. What if that fall had been fatal? Uleanna was at his side now, and he stared at her, white faced, trembling in his uncertainty and horror. And then Tommy opened his eyes. They saw him shake his head to clear it. And then he too stared in horror. How close a call. Friend killing friend. Out here in the airless cold, on the shivering shell of the dying alien world, they helped him to his feet and through the entrance manhole. His mind awhirl with emotion. Blaine saw that Uleana was inside and then followed as in a dream. He bolted the outer cover and turned the valve that would admit air to the lock. Soon they would be inside with their protecting coverings discarded. There would be the fresh air of the interior, light, warmth, safety for away from the copper clad world. They'd be on their way home a little later. Blaine Carson sat at the controls of the RX8 Ulana at his side. Tommy was below, polishing and oiling and fondling his beloved machines. The surface of Antrid was visible through the viewing port, 20 miles beneath them and receding rapidly. Swinging in its new orbit, Antrid was gasping its last over there. A few miles to the east there spouted a column of white vapor that rose from a heaped up crater of ice, which extended in a circle now many miles in diameter. Heavily laden with moisture as it was, the artificial atmosphere of Antrid provided a vast storm of frozen particles as it escaped into the absolute zero of space. For many days this would continue and the pressure within would drop gradually down, down, until the air was so rare it would no longer sustain life. And there was no hope of repairing the break. The mountain of ice preventing getting at it from outside and the rush of air from within made the handling of patch plates and brazing torches impossible. Besides, an area of supporting columns of more than a mile diameter had been wrecked by the blast of the rocket tube. It would require an Earth year to make such a repair. Even if they could retain that atmosphere, Antrid was done for this time. Abruptly, Blaine turned his head from the port and gave his attention to the controls. The RX8 pointed her nose upward, away from this terrible world of disaster and death. Homeward bound. With a tremendous blast from the stern rocket tubes, she headed swiftly into the heavens. A thousand miles, five, ten. They shot into space with ever increasing acceleration. And then a blazing orb was visible off to one side of the swiftly receding globe that was antrid. Through the floor ports it shone, casting cheerful rays upward to the ceiling, where they made a patchwork pattern of the gleaming metal. The sun. Ulana breathed in awe. I've. I've never seen it, my Carson. It is most beautiful. He drew her to him tenderly. You'll see it every day, dear, he whispered, when we're home. Home. A wonderful thought. He had not hoped to see it again, hadn't dared to since Ontaro showed his hand back there in the asteroid belt. And now it was a reality. He was going home. And with him he was taking Ulana. You. You think they will approve of me? She was saying as he sent blasts from the steering rockets to swing them around on a new course sunward. Your people, I mean. They will approve of your choice, my Carson. Anxiety showed in her wide eyed gaze as she drew closer, as if fearful of losing him. If only she knew. If only he had the words to tell her. Approve of you, he said huskily. Lord, girl, they'll love you, but not as I love you. It is the biggest thing. Tommy's discreet cough came from the head of the companionway. Blaine turned to glare savagely. His friend was standing there, grinning like an idiot and extending a paper wrapped package. Look. He exclaimed guilelessly. Cigarettes. I found them. A whole carton. Well, I'll be damned. Blaine exploded. Careful that he spoke in English. All you think of, all you've talked about since we left the vessel is your hankering for a cigarette. For God's sake, get out of here and go smoke yourself to death. But Tommy was advancing, still grinning, still extending the package. Come on, old kid, have one, he insisted. It'll do you good. Quiet your nerves. And his friend dropped a tantalizing eyelid. In spite of his annoyance, Blaine was forced to laugh. Oh, all right, he said, reaching for the package of smokes. I'll take one just to please you. But beat it then, will you? Swaggering as he went and casting knowing glances over his shoulder, he was gone. Great little Irishman, Tommy. Always smiling. Always there in a pinch, never worried. He was the best friend a man could have. They'd catch hell, when they got back for losing a part of their precious cargo, those miserly K metal people wouldn't give them credit for salvaging nine tenths of the stuff. Luckily only about a tenth had been removed by the Lotatheyd. Only cry about the amount that was lost and Tom Farley would laugh it off, kid them out of it. Ulana was smiling as if she understood. She did understand. God bless her. She saw into this wonderful friendship and was glad. It was great to have a friend like that and a girl like this. Hand in hand, they gazed into the heavens before them. To the girl, it was a most marvellous sight, an omen of good fortune and of happiness to come. She nestled her head into the shoulder of the earthman as she watched, spellbound for a long time. The silence was broken only by the steady, muffled purr of the stern rocket tubes. The aroma of cigarette smoke drifted up the companionway. Out there in the heavens was the Sun, Mars, Earth, Venus. The dear old solar system was still intact, undisturbed, excepting for the slight perturbation in the region of Jupiter. Blaine doubted if the influence was measurable in so far as changes in the motion of the inner planets were concerned. He turned the eyepiece of the telescope and swung the instrument around to bear on the Earth. A cool green crescent was there in the field of vision. The eastern coastline of the Americas outline clear and distinct. Look, dear, he whispered. Home. Your new home is there. Our home. Together. She sighed happily as she gazed at the inviting sunlit outlines. Home, she repeated softly, reverently. With you, O my Carson. For all eternity. End of Section 12. Section 13 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science Fiction Novellas by Harold Vincent Creatures of Vibration Part 1 Carr Parker Sat daydreaming at the Nomads controls. More than a week of Earth time had passed since the self styled vagabonds of space had left Europa, and now they were fast approaching the great ringed orb of Saturn with the intention of exploring her satellite lights. Behind him, his Martian friend Mado was manipulating the mechanism of the Rhoulden, that remarkable European optical instrument which Detis had installed in the vessel before they left. Mado was utterly fascinated by the machine, having spent most of his time during the voyage searching the surfaces of Saturn's moons for signs of human habitation. Now, as they headed directly for Titan, the sixth satellite, he was completely absorbed in an examination of the heavy cloud layer that covered it. But Carr's thoughts were of his bride, who still slumbered in their stateroom amidships. In his bachelor days, he never had imagined he could find such a contentment as had come with his marriage to Aura. He had fought shy of the fair sex on Earth. Somehow the women he knew back home had bored him. Angling for a man's money and position, most of them, and incapable of giving real love and companionship in return for the luxuries they demanded. He was resigned to his single state, but all that was changed by the little blue eyed girl he had met in Paladar. She was a different sort, worth a hundred of those others and fulfilling to perfection the ideal he had always set up on her world, Jupiter's satellite Europa. He had neither wealth nor influence. He'd left these behind when he deserted Earth for a life of vagabondage among the stars. But to the daughter of Detis, this lack meant less than nothing. His love and hers meant everything.
- [195:35]
A
Hanging out at the pool is great. Relaxing and playing Vegas style games on my phone at the the same time. Drink in one hand and a blackjack in the other. It's all at Spinquest. Over a thousand games, including your favorite slots and table games. Be cool with this summer special new players get 30 coin packs for 10@Spinquest.com Spin Quest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [196:05]
B
And what a good sport she had been when they were threatened by the Repagu and his minions, when they barely escaped being swallowed up by that monster of space which Mado had likened to the Sargasso Sea of Earth when she herself proposed joining them in their rovings throughout the universe. She was a companion of whom even the phlegmatic Martian was proud. She brought with her presence on the Nomad a subtle something that made of the coldly mechanical spaceship a new thing of beauty and a place of cheerfulness. A home. And to think he had won her for his own. To think. Carr. Mado's sharp exclamation startled him from his pleasant thoughts. Come here and take a look at this, the Martian demanded, his voice betraying an excitement unusual for him. Something is wrong on this satellite we're heading for. Locking the controls in the automatic position, Carr turned to join his friend at the viewing disc of the Ruhldon. Mado had found an opening in the heavy cloud layer, and before them was an unobstructed view of a rugged countryside where huge boulders had been scattered by the mighty hand of Creation, and where the sun shone weakly on the rim of a yawning crater in which sulphurous vapours curled. They saw this strange land as from an altitude of a few hundred feet, though the Nomad was still more than a million miles from the satellite. What's wrong about that? Carr grunted. Excepting that it's just another of these barren and useless bodies that doesn't even provide us with an attracting interest. Wait, mado replied. You'll see in a moment. Something. At that instant there came a puff of blue flame from out of the pit, carrying on its heated breath a drifting sheet of incandescence that fluttered and pulsated like a thing alive. Mado switched on the sound mechanism of the Rhuldun, and the roaring of the pillar of flame came to their ears. There were other sounds as well, the babble of alien voices and the rumble of drums. Immediately the rough ground in the vicinity was filled with creatures of human mould, half naked red skinned beings that rose up from behind the boulders and rushed towards the pit of Fire and the uncanny heat mantle that wandered ghost like along its rim. Two of them carried something between them, a struggling, writhing something which they stood erect at the crater's edge. It was a girl, a slim bronzed figure that swayed there an instant uncertainly as the throb of the drums rose high and the voices of the assembled savages swelled in a monotony of exultant chanting. Good Lord. Kar gasped. A human sacrifice. A quick push, a piercing scream, immediately drowned out by the cries of the multitude, and the girl was flung headlong into the welcoming folds of the white hot ghost mantle, which hovered there like some greedy monster of the lava pools of mercury. The thing closed in around the wildly struggling body, enwrapping it with exultant constrictions of its hell born substance and diving, flapping, smoking heat devil into the flame from whence it had sprung. Mado touched the lever with quick, trembling fingers, and the ruldon's disk went blank. Sickened by what they had seen, the two friends stared at one another, white faced. No place for us, mado said after a moment. Not with Ora. Right, carr agreed grimly. But I'd like to get close enough to see more of Titan. How high is this cloud layer? About a mile above the surface. We can dive through and look them over, perhaps give them a taste of the disintegrator. Attaboy. You took the words out of my mouth. The devils who'd ever dream of such a horror in the 24th century, even out here. What's the reason for this serious discussion? The voice of Detis broke in on them from the door of the control room. Plenty. Carr exclaimed, and the Europan listened gravely as he described the awful thing they had witnessed. I'm not surprised, he said calmly, when the terrestrial ended his recital. There are certain emanations from the mother planet that most certainly will affect the mentality and baser instincts of a race living within their influence. I have been studying these vibrations for several hours. They turned to the forward port as the scientist indicated the great orb of Saturn with its gleaming rings. Now, as they drew near to the enormous planet, it did indeed seem that there was a sinister quality in its shifting luminosity. Carr shivered, thinking of aura, you mean, Mado asked, that there are vibrations in the ether hereabouts that are set up electrically by the planet? Precisely. Or rather, I should say they are set up by the vast number of whirling particles of which its encircling rings are composed. The waveform propagated is of a characteristic that is in tune with those proportions of the brain which control the savage impulses. We may certainly expect to find superstition ridden ignorance and all manner of vice prevalent in the races of Titan. You think these vibrations will affect us? Carr inquired anxiously. Not if we make our visit short. The intensity is quite low. It will be a short visit, all right. We'll be in Titan's atmosphere in about 40 minutes now, and if I have my say, we'll be out of it and away again inside of an hour. Best thing you've said today. Mado approved. But let's have another look at the Rhuldun. We may find other gaps in the clouds. The mechanism of the radio telescope whirled into life as he spoke, and its disk shone bright with the reflected light of Titan as it pictured the body. The Nomad was speeding toward the ill omened satellite at the rate of more than a thousand miles a second, but the surface was nowhere visible, and Mado adjusted the focus so that the view of the billowy cloud covering fell rapidly away, though actually they were approaching the satellite with tremendous velocity. It receded swiftly in the Rhouldan's disk until the entire body showed as a perfect sphere of uniform brilliancy. All surface markings were concealed by the blanket of clouds. Just a moment, Mado said. Detis, I believe I saw something. The Martian pressed a button and the image was stationary. A tiny black spot had appeared near one edge of the satellite's disk, and this now was spreading rapidly like a blot of spilled ink. Then it stretched out into a wriggling line that quickly streaked its way across the equator, completely banding the body. As they watched a moment it lay there like a great serpent encircling the globe, and then it vanished in a flash of intense light that left them blinking in amazement. It was as if a trail of gunpowder had been laid across the surface and then set off by a torch in the hand of some unseen giant of the cosmos. A strange electrical storm that agitated the cloud blanket mightily, then left it more densely closed than before. Through the forward port of the satellite could be seen with the naked eye, growing larger now and resolving itself into a tiny globe. To Carr it seemed that the diminutive moon winked provocatively as he turned to regard it without the Ruldan's aid. Off to the west, Saturn and her rings almost filled the sky, and their baleful light shone cold and menacing against the black velvet of the heavens. Mado took the controls. When the Nomad entered the atmosphere of Titan and drifted over the sea of clouds. He corrected the altimeter for the mass of this body of 3,000 miles diameter and noted that they were up about 6,000ft. Test samples indicated that the outside air, although thin, was pure, but they did not open the ports, as they had no intention of landing. Aura had not yet awakened, and Carr hoped fervently that she would not do so until they had left the immediate vicinity of Titan. It was vastly better if she missed seeing anything of the barbarians of the cloudy satellite. Besides, with her adventuresome and fearless nature, she'd not be satisfied merely to look on from afar. She'd want them to land, and that must not be done. Something tinkled metallically against the hull plates of the vessel. Again and again the sound was repeated, and soon they saw that the air was filled with driving particles which clattered on the thick glass of the ports and contacted resoundingly with the hull. A vast cloud of black loomed directly ahead, springing up from the tossing cloud banks, and Mado yanked at the controls, swerving the Nomad sharply from her course. But there was no escaping the fury of that sudden squall. They were in the thick of it in an instant, and the ship was buffeted and tossed about as if it were a toy. Millions of the driving particles battered the nomad, and the din of their pounding was terrific. As the ship was whirled deeper into the midst of the tempest, Carr saw that the black particles were piling up around the rim of the port, sticking fast to the middle of the hull. They were bristling in fantastic array, like iron filings adhering to the poles of a magnet. In a flash it came to him that these particles were magnetic. The Nomad was covered with them, and they piled on ever more thickly, soon weighing her down so heavily that she lost altitude. They were at the mercy of a furious electrical storm of mysterious nature. Imps of the canals. Mado shouted above the din. We're finished. The machinery is paralyzed. This iron hail is charged. The viewing port was completely covered over now with particles that arched from rim to rim, slender rod like things about 2 inches long and the thickness of heavy wire. Black, they were, black as graphite. Detis worked frantically with Mado at the useless controls, vainly endeavoring to stabilize the pitching vessel. Dazed by the suddenness of the calamity, Carr turned to look at the altimeter. 5,000ft. 4,000. 500ft. 4,000. Nose down and reeling drunkenly, the Nomad was diving into certain disaster on the rocky ground of Titan. He dashed from the control room, calling distractedly to Aura as he raced along the passageway. She staggered from the stateroom and into his arms, a slim, boyish figure in her snug leather jacket and breeches. Together they were flung violently against the partition by a heavy lurch of the vessel. What is it? She gasped, clinging to him for support. A freak storm in Titan's atmosphere. Guess the Nomad's done for. Carr drew her fiercely close as an awful picture flashed across his mind of Ora's body mangled in twisted wreckage, of the savages finding it down there. The metal floor plates seemed to buckle and hurl themselves aft with a grinding crash of disrupted joints. Holding desperately to the precious little body within his arms, Carr was thrown off his feet. There was a detonation, as if the universe had been blasted into oblivion. Then darkness and numbed silence. Carr, you're hurt, ora moaned. He was a little his head was splitting and the taste of blood was in his mouth, but it was nothing serious. He'd been knocked out, but his head was clearing already. Of far greater importance was the fact that Aura was unharmed. He satisfied himself of that immediately. I'm all right, he grunted, struggling to his feet and feeling around in the blackness. The lights in the passage were out, and he groped blindly along the partition, the metal of which had suddenly become very hot to the touch. There was a curious feeling of lightness, as if his body had no weight at all. The ship rolled gently, and he knew they were falling swiftly to the inevitable crash. Yet he clung fast to Aura, and together they made their way to the control room. Faint daylight streamed in through the porch there, and he saw Mado and Detis, both bleeding from injuries they had received when the mysterious shock hurled them against the control mechanisms. They were working furiously with the exciter generator, which had stopped. The Nomad was without power and helpless to exert her anti gravity energy. The iron hail. Gasped the Europan scientist. It gave up its charge. Carr exploded. Here, give us a hand and see if we can get the generator started. The ports were clear of the black particles, and Carr saw that the outer surface of the glass was cracked and darkened from the heat of the blast. He understood, remembering the black band and the flash they had seen across the cloud layer from afar, and in the instant of remembering he saw that the ground was very near, rushing upward to meet them. A coil of the exciter armature broke away in his fingers. The thing had been burned out by the electric storm, and the Nomad was doomed. The altimeter needle moved with sickening speed and already registered but little more than 500ft. 400. Carr braced himself for the impending crash and gathered Aura in his arms. And then a strange thing happened. Four light rays, dazzling in intensity, stabbed up at them from the forest beneath them and converged on the vessel's hull. The Nomad staggered, then came to an even keel and slackened in her mad dash to the surface. She vibrated from stem to stern under the mighty conflict of energies, and they felt themselves pressed forward hard against the floor plate. But the mysterious energy beams had come too late to save them.
- [211:13]
A
You know what? It sucks to be bored. But when I get on my phone and play real casino games on spinquest.com, the time flies by. That two hour wait at the DMV seems like 10 minutes. Play your favorite slots. Live blackjack, live craps with a live dealer. New players $30 coin packs are on on sale for 10 bucks. Play spinquest.com and you'll never be bored again. Spinquest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [211:44]
B
A densely wooded slope loomed directly ahead. There was a crashing of branches and the rending of mighty trunks, and the Nomad came to a jarring stop. Devils of Tara. Mado ejaculated. We're in a fine fix now. We'll have to set foot on Titan whether we want to or not. Carr had laughed somewhat shakily in relief. They were safe, all of them, and no one much hurt. And the generator coils could be rewound. But he sobered instantly at Mado's words. They'd have to produce copper and insulating materials for the job. Right, he agreed. And that's not so good. What's so terrible about landing here? Aura inquired. I thought we were expecting to explore this satellite. She looked up from her ministrations to Detis, who had a nasty scalp wound. The people here are dangerous savages, carr answered gravely. At least some of them are. We saw them in the Ruhlden. You'll have to remain aboard while we look up the ones who projected those rays and do some bargaining with them. What, you expect me to hide in the vessel while you're at work outside? Not much. I want to see something of Titan while we are here. Her pretty chin was set in that determined manner she had. I tell you, it's too risky. Carr was firm, but he looked at Mado beseechingly, signaling for his support, but the Martian only grinned owlishly. He knew as well as did Carr that Aura would have her way. Risky. Pooh, she returned. I'm not afraid. We have our pistols and the funny torpedoes you brought from Mars. Besides, I don't believe it's as bad as you think. Carr shrugged his shoulders. After all, they probably would not encounter any of the savages here in the forest. Beings of far greater intelligence were responsible for those rays, that much was certain. Besides, they'd be three able bodied men out there to watch over her, and he'd make sure she didn't get too far away from the ship. Carr was the first to step from the open manhole to the soft carpet of the Titanese forest. He found the air cool and crisp, with a tang of ozone assailing his nostrils. There was a pulsating motion in it that he could hardly define. It seemed that it massaged his cheeks and raised the short hairs at the nap of his neck and on his forearms as if they were electrified. Those vibrations Detis told him about were actively at work. The gravity was even less than on Mars, though slightly greater than that of Europa. Mado was entirely at ease, and the Europans would not be bothered by the slight change in their weight. But Carr would have to take it easy, as he'd done ever since leaving Earth. His muscles were too powerful for his body. On these smaller worlds, though, this was a mighty advantage if he took care not to overexert. A melodious whistling note rose high somewhere in the depths of the forest and trailed off into eerie silence. The sky was overcast with grey clouds and the light was purple pour of little more than twilight intensity on Terra, this being partly due to the masking of the sun by the clouds and partly to their tremendous distance from that radiant body. Odd that it was not colder, he thought. Probably those vibratory radiations of Saturn's rings had something to do with the temperature in addition to their other effects. Detis was on his knees, examining a queer specimen of purplish moss which had drawn his eye. The eternal scientist in the man could not be drowned. Mado had come out armed with one of the bulky kalbite torpedo projectors and was looking around belligerently. Aura drew herself erect and took a deep breath as soon as her feet touched the ground, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with excitement. Oh, Carr, she breathed. It's marvellous. An honest to goodness virgin forest. We've neither of us seen one, you know. Aren't you thrilled? Well, he admitted, I've always looked forward to wandering in just such places. But with you along and thinking of those barbarians we saw. Silly. I'm as capable as any of you, and even if I couldn't look out for myself, I know that you will be at my side. She pursed her lips and tossed back her head provocatively. What was a man to do? A deep toned booming note came from the hills, commencing like the warning siren of a space liner approaching its berth and swelling to an abomination of ear shattering sound that set the steel of the nomad's hull vibrating and their very flesh and bones a tingle. Then it died away, as had the bird note, which was the first sound of this world to greet them. Jupiter, what's that? Mado unslung his torpedo projector as if in answer to his startled question. A weird object drifted over the tree tops and poised directly above them, about 50ft up. An egg shaped thing, six or seven feet in length and seemingly made of white metal. It swayed there gently without visible means of support, and they could make out a transparent disk on its side, back of which there was a human head with eyes that regarded them curiously. Mado raised his torpedo tube and took aim. Hold it, carr warned him. This fellow's no savage. Probably he's one of those who tried to break our fall. Friendly, perhaps. Two more of the Ovoids drifted in from the woods and joined the first one, all three settling a few feet lower and their occupants staring intently at the intruders. I'll get the psycho ray apparatus, deta said excitedly. We may be Able to get thought contact with them, he dived through the nomad's entrance manhole as he spoke. Nothing so frightening about these creatures, ora murmured, her eyes reproaching carr. Why, they seem anxious to know that we are not enemies. And indeed this seemed to be the case, for the strange Ovoids wafted still lower, dropping until a faint humming of the internal gravity mechanism came to their ears. These were a highly developed people of scientific attainment, civilized beings. But Mado kept firm hold of his torpedo tube and Car fingered the ray pistol at his belt. The booming note from the hills came then frightfully near this time, and the three Ovoids moved with sudden roaring of their motors, literally hurling themselves skyward. But the menace they sought to escape was real and not to be outdone in speed. A vast black something whirred out from beyond the treetops and flung itself upon them. A pterodactyl. Mado gasped. One of the prehistoric monsters of Terra Car. There are men riding it. Or exclaimed. Red men. It was true. The pterodandron, a horrid bat like thing with a wing spread of fully 20ft, carried three of the bronze savages clinging to a sort of harness that encircled its body just back of the crested head. The huge flying reptile whistled raucously as it flew, and one of the savages was whirling a sling which held a stone as large as its own head. They watched in amazement as the swift aerial steed flapped its way after the rising Ovoids. And then the savage let loose an end of his thong and released its missile, which crashed full against the transparent disk of an ovoid and tore its way through. The damaged ovoid careened violently and then fell end over end, crashing in the forest with a bellow of fury. Mado fired with the calibite tube at his hip. There was a twang of the propelling ray and the slender arrow like torpedo sped forth on its message of death, singing spitefully as it cleaved the air of Titan. It was a fair hit, catching the Pterodandron just ahead of its trailing legs and exploding with the characteristic screaming roar of the deadly chalybite. The monstrous reptile and its crew of barbarians vanished in a blaze that lighted the clouds above them and brought a babel of excited shoutings from the depths of the forest on all sides they were surrounded by the uncivilized ones of Titan, and those of the Ovoids had run off at the first sign of danger. The din from the forest was augmented by the whistlings of a second pteranodon, which darted after the remaining ovoids, following swiftly as these retreated with ludicrous, wabbling haste. Aura screamed and struck out at something with her fist. A naked arm had reached out from the underbrush and grasped her wrist. Carr wheeled and his ray pistol spat crackling flame. The savage, an undersized red man with an enormous head, rose steadily from his hiding place, a look of terrible hate in his contorted features. Then, like a punctured balloon, his body collapsed into the nothingness of complete disintegration. Back. Back to the Nomad. Carr roared, dragging Ora with him and leveling his pistol at the group of bronze brutes who had rushed into the space where the vessel lay amongst the trees. Mado was busy with his torpedo tube and a vast explosion shook the ground beneath them as the trio of savages were blasted out of existence.
- [221:58]
A
What's going on, everyone? It's bluff here and we're driving through the states in the Bluff Mobile and the best thing that we can do is play our favorite casino style games on Spin Quest. They have over a thousand games including live dealer blackjack and craps with tons of slots and unlimited options. You can get a 30 coin pack for just $10. For new users sign up today. Go to spinquest.com right now spin Quest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited visitors visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [222:28]
B
A great tree toppled and crashed across the nose of the Nomad, its roots ripped from the soil by the concussion. Aura had whipped out her own pistol and was firing as they fell back. Game kid she was. Carr gloated as he saw she was making each shot tell. But this couldn't last. There were hundreds of them now, long armed and big headed red devils swarming in from every direction. Carr dodged none too quickly to save his skull from a swift flung stone which clanged against the Nomad's hull. There was a perfect hail of missiles now. One struck his left arm, a numbing blow, and he heard a sickening thud and Aura's moan as she was hit, and there were wing darts from blowguns. A dusky moon face leered into his own, horribly close, and he yelled his rage as he drove it back with a swift uppercut. But the horde of savages came on in ever increasing numbers and with renewed vigour. Quick inside. Carr hissed in Aura's ear as his fingers found the rim of the manhole. He'd have her safely within in a moment. Detis Clambered out with the thought machine in his arms.
- [223:45]
A
Arms.
- [223:45]
B
And a singing dart from one of the blowguns pierced him through and through. A look of astonishment spread over his kindly features and he fell forward, dying. And then Carr looked up into a grinning face behind a huge club which was swinging downward. He threw up his arm to break the force of the blow, but the club fell too swiftly. The enormous weight of it crashed down on his skull, and he knew no more. Section 14 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent Creatures of vibration Part 2 When he awakened, it was to stare for a dazed moment into a pair of blue eyes that looked down upon him in a place of dim light and stuffy atmosphere. The eyes were only vaguely familiar in his befuddled memory. Beautiful eyes, though, and incredibly dear. Aura. He exclaimed in wondering remembrance, trying to sit up as he grasped her hand. Hush, she warned him, placing a fingertip to his lips. Be quiet now and perhaps they'll leave us alone for a while. They? Did they capture us? He whispered. Are you hurt? We're prisoners all right, excepting poor Father, but they didn't harm me much outside of the rough handling the devils. What of Detis? He was growing stronger by the minute, and now saw that they were in an open mouthed cave and that Mado was sitting hunched dejectedly in a corner, his massive shoulders drooping and his head bowed on his chest. Father, they killed him. Ora sighed almost inaudibly. Have you forgotten? We saw the dart strike him and I. I saw it sticking from his chest. Oh, Carr. A dry sob caught in her throat. Yes, yes, Lord. Carr groaned, sick at heart with a sudden recollection and full compassion for the stricken girl. He patted her hand with clumsy tenderness as she turned her head and gazed out through the cave mouth in silence that was fraught with intense pain. She would take it like that, with little to say, but with much inward suffering. And then he noticed a fourth occupant of the cavern, a young lad of Titan, like one of the savages in his small stature and in the large size of his head, he was much lighter in colour and his body was encased in a snug one piece garment of shivering material, of silky texture. And there was a different light in his eyes, the light of intelligence and culture. Who is that? Carr whispered. Aura stared when she saw that the stranger was on his feet. Oh. She exclaimed. I'm glad he has recovered. He's one of the civilized ones. They captured him with his ovoid when the second pteranodon went out after them. Mado was standing now, endeavoring to communicate with the lad by means of signs and the drawing of crude pictures in the red sand of the cavern floor. The graceful little fellow watched him with understanding and with a smile of amused tolerance. Then he halted the big Martian with an imperious motion, addressing him in velvety voice. Natsu, he said simply, placing a forefinger on his breast and bowing before the astonished Mato. Imps of the canals. The Martian exclaimed, grinning delightedly as he cast a swift look at Kar and Dora. He's telling me his name. Mine's Mado, he said, turning his eyes to the keen gray ones that smiled up at him. Mado, he repeated, placing a huge fist against his own chest and bending his body in awkward imitation of the lad's courtly gesture. They made no attempt to converse in tongues that would convey no meaning, but there was no mistaking the quick friendship that sprang up between the incongruous pair. Mado was the boy's slave from that moment, and Natsu looked up to the Martian with all of youth's admiration for his vast bulk and rippling muscles. Suddenly they were without light, and Carr saw that a curtain of woven rushes had been dropped over the mouth of the cave. There were soft padding footsteps on every side, and he drew back against the rock wall with Ora clasped in his arms. A sinewy hand grasped his wrist and twisted his right arm free. He lashed out in the darkness and was rewarded by a grunt of pain as his fists contacted with an unseen face. Natsu's voice rose in anger, and Mado's wrathful bellow was followed by a frightful commotion as he tore into his assailants. They were everywhere in the blackness, these slippery little savages of Titan, their half naked bodies crowding him and stifling him with their sweaty nearness. Again and again Carr struck out, but it was like fighting a horde of squirming and crawling feline creatures that swarmed over him and bore him down by sheer weight of numbers. They dragged Orra from his arms and quickly overpowered him. Throngs of rawhide twisted deeply into the flesh of his wrists, and he was hauled forth into the daylight, securely tied hand and foot. Carr was propped up, sitting with his back to a huge boulder. He saw they had been carried to the place they had viewed in the disk of the Rhuilton. A dozen paces away. Ora and Mado sat similarly bound. The Martian had been gagged as well, and Carr was forced to smile despite the seriousness of the situation. His mad bellowings must have proved as painful to the ears of the red dwarfs as his fists were to their bodies. Natsu, unbound and walking proudly erect, was being marched to the edge of a smoking fissure by two of the strangers. No others of the red men were in sight. It was the place of sacrifice they had seen in the Ruuldun, and the natives were in hiding as before. Natsu would be the first to go. Then Ora, most likely. He strained desperately at his bonds when he realized the awful significance of their position. It was incredible that Aura was here and in the hands of these unspeakable monsters. Why, she'd be thrown into the incandescent fields of the flapping fire God along with the rest of them. He groaned in an agony of self recrimination. He should not have allowed her to come on this mad voyage. Then came that roaring column of flame from out of the crater, and the weird fluttering thing whose intense heat radiated across the intervening space like the breath of a blast furnace. The rumble of drums commenced, and thousands of the red men dashed over the rocky area to worship at the shrine of their pitiless God. As their monotonous chant rose high, Natsu was rushed to the edge of the pit. The ghastly, shimmering heat ghost drifted hungrily to await the flinging of the slight form into its consuming embrace. Kara was glad to see that Aurra had turned her head. And then there came a sucking noise from the depths of the crater, and the pillar of blue flame vanished abruptly, the incandescent ghost shape flapping disconsolately in its wake. The chant of savages trailed off into a chorus of disgruntled murmurings, and the booming of drums died down in disappointment. The worshippers had been cheated of their sadistic pleasure. There was something wrong with the timing of the rite. Their mysterious fire God had granted the captives a reprieve, but the prisoners were not deceived by the solicitous treatment accorded them by their captors when they were returned to the cave and their bonds were severed for well, they knew that at the next appearance of the phenomenon of the pit, they would be dragged off to the sacrifice. Sooner or later all of them were to meet the fate of those given into the embrace of the heat demon, a guard of 50 or more of the savages armed with blow guns and stone hatchets paraded continuously before the mouth of the cave as one of their numbers returned with a huge woven container of fruits and nuts of strange form and colour. This was set before them, and the bearer withdrew. Mado grunted. Seems like they want to fatten us up for this heated cheat of theirs, like hogs fattened for the market. But he reached for the striped yellow melon atop the heap and at a bright nod of approval from Natsu, bit into its smooth skin. Carr's stomach rebelled when he looked at the food. He could not bear the sight of the stuff sitting there in the damp cavern with Aura's blue eyes regarding him in the the dim light. Those wide eyes held a gleam of hope and trust that would not be discouraged. He gazed out through the cave mouth and calculated their chances. There were none, not against that horde of barbarians. There were too many of the devils to fight with their bare hands. If only they had their ray pistols or a torpedo projector, at least they could sell their lives dearly. His eyes narrowed speculatively when they came to rest on a peculiar egg shaped object that stood out there in the open. It was Natsu's Ovoid. Here was an idea, but he saw that its entrance door was open and that the space inside was too small for any of them, excepting one of the small stature of the Titanese. It was cramped with machinery. Natsu was the only one of their number who could squeeze into the thing. In fact, he alone knew how to operate the queer flying machine. There must be others of his kind, plenty of them. Another country or a city full of them at least. Perhaps he might obtain aid, if only he could be made to understand. And if they could get him out of there safely, somehow. Mado, he called, pointing. Do you suppose we could dope a way out of getting Natsu aboard his sky vehicle and go for help? The Martian stared, his mouth stuffed with food and his jaws in full action. He strained suddenly to swallow the huge mouthful so he could make reply. Not a chance, he grunted. Why, there's a million of them out there. You won't catch them napping. But he turned his attention from the basket of fruit and made a desperate effort to convey the idea to Natsu, whose bright eyes took in his every significant motion and whose sensitive fingers traced images in the sand that convey his own thoughts to the mind of the Martian in rapid succession. He's got it. Mado gloated. The game little cuss would go in a minute. If we could get him to the Ovoid. He's got A picture of the big island here, so help me. An island covered with circular dwellings made of metal, like the Ovoids, he indicates. Look here. Carr and Aura moved over to watch the swift sketching of the Tight Knees Lady. By means of pantomime and his carefully drawn pictures, he told them of his people, making it clear that they were forced to live in insulated dwellings and travel only in the Ovoids, which likewise were insulated against the devastating vibrations that emanated from Saturn's rings. He sketched those rings, illustrating the vibrations and tapping his own forehead in explanation of the effect on the brain, pointing to the savages to indicate the ultimate fate of his kind. The protective insulation, it appeared, was not permanent. Sooner or later, all of them would become barbarians like the others. The savages out there were their fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers gone mad, their skins darkened by continued action of the vibrations. After they fled their insulated homes realms, his pictures of the family life were meticulously drawn. His people never warred upon these savage kin of theirs. Naturally, though, the reverse was not always true. However, Natsu pointed to the Ovoid and showed his willingness to help the strangers. But he shook his head sadly as he counted the barbarians on his fingers, multiplying the number endlessly by clapping his hands. There were too many of them. The thing was impossible. Good lord. Carr exclaimed. He's a marvel at communicating his thoughts without words, but I'd think his people would beat it for the hills without waiting. Might as well have it over with. But they're still working on the problem, Aura objected. With their wisdom, they'll finally get the thing under control. And they probably hope to discover a way of restoring their maddened relative gloves. She was doing something with the red sand, wetting her fingers in a trickle of water that oozed from the wall and making a red paste, which she smeared on her white forearm and then rubbed off. I guess you're right, Carr admitted. Then, watching her strange performance, he asked, what are you doing? She looked up with sparkling eyes and stretched forth her arm. It's Stane's car. See? She exclaimed excitedly. We can fix up Nasu to resemble one of the savages. It is the exact color of their skin. Mado. He called, sensing at once the possibilities of her discovery. They could make up Natsu to perfection, mingling with the barbarians unsuspected, he might get possession of the Ovoid. The Titanese fell in with the idea at once, and the two men started to work on him with water and the powdery stuff they had taken for red sand, they stripped him of his silken garment and smeared him from head to foot, Carr taking special care to see that his upper body and face were thoroughly covered. Then, after using his own clothing to swab off the coating, they stepped back to view the result. He was exactly like one of the red men, in colour now, and he stood there twisting his face in a wicked grin to heighten the similarity. The little devil Mado chuckled. He gets the idea perfectly. We'll have to muss his hair now and fix him up with a kirtle like theirs. Removing his suede jacket and turning it inside out, he draped it about the slim hips of Natsu, then, slapping his chest approvingly. There you are, lady, he told the greening youngster. A tough looking kid we've made of you too. The words were lost on the young Titanese, but his bright eyes showed that he fully comprehended the humour as well as the gravity of the situation. The improvised covering would pass without question as one of the untanned hides the barbarians wore dangling from their waists. The disguise was faultless. Aura had been watching at the mouth of the cave. Now she called out in low voiced warning, Hurry. One of them is coming. Carr moved forward swiftly to face the opening, while Mado stood with his great bulk hiding the now unrecognizable Natsu. The savage entered, proceeding directly to where Carr was standing. He bent over the fruit basket and then the earthman was upon him. The wiry red man struggled furiously, but Karr had a grip on his windpipe that stopped his attempts to cry out and quickly seduced him to a state of flabby subjection. Then he bound and gagged his captive, tearing strips of linen from his own shirt to provide the necessary material. In a moment they had bundled the trussed up dwarf into a corner of the cavern, and Natsu stepped forth blithely to lift the basket to his shoulder. Everything seemed to happen at once. After that. Nadshu stalked boldly out among the savages, who paid him no attention whatsoever. He passed out of their field of vision for a moment, and then they saw him at the circular door of the Ovoid. In a flash he was in sight, and the thing soared speedily into the air and out of sight. The red men broke forth in a babel of excited jabbering, and then they were crowding into the cave, hundreds of them, it seemed, shrieking their rage as they attacked the hapless prisoners. Carr went down fighting madly, but to no avail. He hadn't counted on this he should have known better. A crushing weight of them was upon him, clawing and beating at him as he struggled to rise. They were suffocating him with their rank animal odors. And then he was dragged into the open air, battered and dazed. He saw they had found their fellow. The one he had bound and gagged. Ora was considerably mussed up, but unharmed, he observed with relief, but Mado lay there, inert. This was the first time Carr had ever seen him take the count at the hands of Man. When they had untied the one whose place had been taken by Natsu, he came straight for the earthman and would have brained him with a huge stone had not his fellows interfered. He objected strenuously, his eyes red with hate and a torrent of harsh gutturals pouring from his lips, but the others held him off. This strange white giant from the machine of the skies was to be saved for the embrace of the Fire God. With the entire blame for Natsu's escape thus placed upon the terrestrial, Aura and Mato were returned to the cavern and left unmolested. But Carr was prodded into moving over against a boulder and was surrounded by a semicircle of the dwarfs, who squatted calmly to watch him blow, guns in their hands and stone hatchets on the ground within easy reach. They were taking no more chances with this one. The long day of Titan dragged interminably, but the watchful eyes of his guards never strayed from their prisoner. At any moment the Fire God might make an appearance, and the rite of sacrifice take plays.
- [242:46]
A
Hey everybody, lady luck here and we're celebrating America's 250th birthday. Now all summer long I'm going to be celebrating by playing on spin quest.com which is an American owned social casino. It obviously features over a thousand slot games and live blackjack, live craps, live bubble craps. Head on over to spinquest.com get yourself a $30 coin pack for just 10 bucks. Spinquest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [243:17]
B
Carr supposed that the thing made more or less regular appearances, like a geyser of Earth, and next time there would be no escape. Night fell and still those eyes watched intently in the light reflected against the low flung clouds from the seething crater nearby. Nothing had been seen of Natsu or any of the Ovoids. Probably it was useless to expect them. They could not bring themselves to do battle against these savage kin of theirs anyway. He was glad the little fellow had gotten Away. He hoped he was safely in bedif they had beds in those insulated dwellings. He could not sleep. All through the night he sat with bowed head, alternately planning rescue attempts and cursing himself for bringing Ora to this horrible end. Detis was dead. The nomad was hopelessly beyond repair for many days. Even if they could make their escape and locate it, Natsu had saved his own skin, and they were left to the mercy of these vibration crazed brutes who waited there in the flickering red twilight all around him. It was a revolting ending for an adventure that had started so auspiciously. With the first faint light of dawn came the roaring of the pillar of flame from out of the crater. Instantly there rose the hollow booming of the drums and the chanting of thousands of the barbarous worshippers. The place was swarming with them almost instantly, and Kar's guards closed in on him with evil glee. Aura was brought out into the open, her arms held fast by two of the red devils who yanked her roughly along between them. Carr roared out in blind rage and in awful fear for the girl. He struck out viciously into the first grinning face that pressed nearer. Something in his brain seemed to snap then, and he became a snarling fighting animal, battling against overwhelming odds in defence of his mate. A dart buried itself in his arm and a stone hatchet bit into his shoulder, but he scarcely felt the hurts. All that mattered now was Aurathey were taking her away, taking her to the fields of that incredible hot thing that flapped there at the crater's rim. An arm snapped like a pipe stem in his fingers, and he heard the squeal of pain from somewhere in the tangled mass of savages around him. And then they were falling back, easing up on him. The din was increasing, but it seemed that a note of fear had crept in to replace the exultant frenzy of those chanting voices. The drums were stilled. Wiping the blood from his eyes with the back of his hand, he saw the barbarians running everywhere. They were screaming in superstitious terror and fighting one another in their desperate anxiety to escape the vicinity of their precious fire God. A tremendous voice boomed out over the hubbub, a voice that came from the crater in vast, commanding gutturals that struck terror into the souls of the panicky barbarians. Yet somehow that mightily sonorous voice carried a familiar ring. Carr raised astonished eyes to the pillar of blue flame and was seized with a well nigh uncontrollable impulse to flee with the red men, for a monstrous image of Detis swayed there in the hot vapours, a massive arm raised menacingly, and an equally Brobdinagian voice issuing from his lips in vain, fiery syllables of the red man's tongue. Detis. Carr shouted. Detis. Ora Mado. And then he was running toward the crater's edge in bounding strides that carried him 20ft at a leap. He understood now. Detis had recovered from his wound and was reversing the rhouldan's energy. He was projecting his own image and voice, many times amplified, into the column of fire to terrify the savages. Aura was lying there on the rim of the pit. She had fainted at the sight of the ghost shape whose white hot folds flapped there, reaching to engulf her in their all consuming embrace. Carr babbled like a madman as he pulled her away from the horrible thing that pulsated with eager flutterings not three feet away, its hot breaths singeing her silken lashes and brows. Mado was there, encouraging him and yelling something else he couldn't understand, pointing skyward. And then he sought the nomad with its sleek, tapered cylinder of a body, nosing down toward them with the silvery aura of its propulsive energy gleaming like a beacon of hope against the dull clouds of the Satellite of Terror. And there was something else. One of the Ovoids of Titan, clinging there to the vessel's hull plates alongside the open manhole. Natsu had not failed them after all. His mind refused to question the miracle further. Somehow, when the vessel landed, he managed to reach the manhole with his precious burden. He staggered through the passageway and into their stateroom, tenderly stretching Aura on her own bed. In the next instant he was rummaging in the medicine closet. He found ointment for her burns, smelling salts, damp cloths. With trembling fingers he ministered to her, a great joy welling up within him as he saw she was recovering. Another minute back there at the crater and he'd have lost her forever. He swallowed hard at the thought, his eyes misty as he looked down at her and remembered. Impatiently, he jerked the barbed dart from his arm and poured a powerful antiseptic into the open wound. Unmindful of the pain. As best he could, he disinfected his other cuts and bandaged them. Aura had raised herself and now sat there, swaying weakly and regarding him with anxious gaze. A little later they made their way forward to the control room. The nomad had taken off and was drifting slowly. Higher at the control sat a strange bedaubed figure. Natsu Mado was peering through the coils of a helix of silver ribbon that had been erected beside the Roldan father. Ora darted past him and dropped to her knees on the floor plates at the Martian's side. The body of Detis was slumped there, a ghastly corpse, lips within those gleaming coils, but his kind features were fixed in a serene smile. He had gone to his reward with content in his heart. Only then did Carr remember. One could not subject his body to the reversed energies of the Reoldan without certain expectation of death. A few short seconds with those terrible oscillations surging through his being, carrying the amplified visual and aural reproduction through the ethereal, and the Europan scientist had perished knowingly, willingly. Detis had given his life that the rest of them might live. Recovered miraculously from his first serious injury, he had done this magnificent thing deliberately and gladly. A great lump rose in Carr's throat as Ora's sobbing came to his ears. With his vision blurred by tears, he turned to the pilot's seat where Natsu faced him with solemn eyes. Natsu, go now, the amazing young Titanes stated. He spoke in halting syllables of Kos, the language of the Inner Planets. Kar stared agape, scarcely believing his ears. DDA's great man, Natsu continued, relinquishing his seat to the dazed earthman. Natsu, find him in ship. My people already there with him. They want to help. When you come, return after capture and heal dart wound of Detus. Bring wire and help him fix motors. Work very quick, my people. Detus have brain machine. Talk with Natsu. Teach him words also very quick. Natsu, tell where you are and come to help. Then he scare away red men and die. That is all. Now I go and you go also quickly. So that's how it happened, Carr muttered slowly, mulling over the amazing things he had heard. He watched the Titanese lad keenly as his eyes wandered in Mado's direction. He saw the admiring light that came into them as the big Martian removed the body of Detis from the Helix and carried it gently away. Wait a minute, he interposed as Natsu made as if to leave. Mado would like to talk to you. Must go soon. The youngster drew himself up proudly. Natsu is prince of his people. They need him. And you, you must go at once. Vibrations of Mother Planet's rings work on you too long already. Must be quick, else you be wild men like those down there. He waved his arm in a gesture that embraced all Titans. Anxiety was written large on his countenance, and his gaze travelled nervously to the door through which Mado must return. The big Martian was not long in coming. He had carried the body of Deta Saft, leaving Ora there with her dead. Carr's heart ached for her. He knew how silently and terribly she suffered, knowing that her father had been healed off his deadly wound by the friendly Titanese, only to be taken from her afterwards by his own heroic act made the blow doubly hard. Later they would give Detis a decent burial, sending him through the airlock to drift aimlessly in space, preserved through the ages by intense cold and the absence of air. A fitting tomb for the noblest of the vagabonds. Mato chattered endlessly with Natsu, who was impatient to be off. Seeing that it was impossible to detain him, and realizing at last the stern necessity of hastening their own departure, he finally let him go. The youngster bid Carr a sober, friendly farewell and followed Mado to the airlock. Carr heard the clang of the manhole cover as it swung home and was bolted to its seat. The old void drifted away from the vessel and dropped toward the forest beneath them. Natsu had gone to rejoin his people. His fingers strayed to the controls. They must get away from the evil influence of those vibrations. He had felt something of their degrading power in the fighting down there. He had almost become a savage himself, he remembered with a revulsion of feeling. The feel of the levers brought him too, a renewed sense of confidence and responsibility. A while back he thought he'd never perform such simple duties again. The nomad responded instantly and rose swiftly to hover over the pit of the fire God. The flame had partially subsided, and the ghost shape wobbled there, changing form rapidly with darkening colors. Some weird phenomenon of nature that those brutes had set up as a deity. Carr increased the repulsion energy once more, and the nomad shot skyward like a rocket. Through the floor port he saw Natsu's tiny ovoid scudding over the treetops. Then it had vanished. We're getting away. None too soon, said Mado, rejoining him. Right. Carr watched the temperature indicator as he increased speed to the maximum they could withstand in the atmosphere. They were out above the cloud layer then, and he cast apprehensive eyes on the enormous flat disks encircling the great globe that was Saturn. Something like a hundred and seventy thousand miles across them, he remembered, but the astronomers of the inner planets had little actual knowledge of their composition. They knew nothing at all of their terrible power or their strange inhabitants. The nomad left Titan with tremendous exhilaration now, as he increased the speed of the rejuvenated generators. They'd go on, on toward Uranus, Neptune, anywhere away from this ringed planet that was responsible for the death of one of their number, away from the region that was soon to become the Tomb of Detis. There was silence then as the Nomad raced on through the blackness. Mato gripped the rail of the port and peered long and earnestly at the tiny pinpoint of light that was now Titan's great kid, that Natsu, the Martian said after a while. Too bad he couldn't come along with us. Yes, Carr was thinking of the different life there would be on board the Nomad, and well, he knew that Mado was thinking of the same thing. The Martian had missed the close companionship of his terrestrial friend since his marriage to Aura, missed it more than he would admit, even to himself. And the Ladnatsu had appealed to him. He would have fathered him as only a lonely bachelor can. Suddenly Carr's own friendship for the big fellow seemed a wonderful thing. Never mind, old man, he whispered, reaching over and gripping Mado's hand mightily. We'll be a three cornered familyora, and you and I, and who knows but that you'll find the one and only girl yourself some fine day. Oh, shut up, mado grunted, but a big hand closed down hard on Carr's fingers, and the Earthman knew that their friendship was more firmly cemented than ever before. Section 15 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent Vulcan's Workshop Savagely cursing, Luke Fenton reeled backward from the porthole, his great hairy paws clapped over his eyes. No one had warned him, and he did not know that total blindness might result from gazing too earnestly into the sun's unscreened flaming orb, especially that body not more than 20 million miles distant in space. He did not know, in fact, that the Ether ship was that close. Luke had not the faintest notion of the vast distances of the universe, or of the absence of air and space which permitted the full intensity of the dazzling rays to strike into his optics, unfiltered save by the thick but clear glass which covered the port. He knew only that the sun, evidently very near, was many times its usual size and of infinitely greater brilliance. And he was painfully aware of the fact that the fantastically enlarged and blazing body had seared his eyeballs and caused the floating black spots which now completely obscured his vision. Stumbling in his blindness, he fell across the hard cot that was the sole article of furniture in the cell he had occupied for more than two weeks. Lying there, half dazed and with splitting head, he cursed the guard who opened the inner cover of the port Kirstenaux, the fish eyed Martian judge who had sentenced him to a term in Vulcan's workshop. Several of Luke's 38 years had been spent in jails and sundry other penal institutions devised by earthmen and Martian for the punishment of offenders against the laws of organized society. And yet they had failed to break his defiant spirit or to convince him of the infallibility of his creed that might makes right. Nor had they taken from him the gorilla like strength that was in his broad squat body, the magnificent brute lustihood that made him a terror to police and citizen alike. Instead, the many periods of incarceration had only served to increase his hatred of mankind and his contempt of the forces of law and order. Especially was he contemptuous of the book learning that gave the authorities their power. As the pained back of his eyes abated, Luke could see dimly the shaft of light that slanted down from the porthole to the bare steel floor. His sight was returning, yet he lay there still growling in his throat, his mind occupied with thoughts of his checkered past. Steel worker, mechanic, roustabout, he had worked in most of the populous cities of Earth and had managed to get into serious trouble wherever he went. It was his boast that he had never killed a man except in fair fight. And yet, at 30, finding himself wanted by the police of half a dozen cities of Earth, he had signed up in the black gang of a tramp ether ship bound for Mars, knowing that he would never return and not caring at all. At first he had been riotously happy in the changed life on the New World. There had been plenty of soul satisfying brawls and plenty of Chilco, the fiery Martian distillate on his many and frequent jobs. There were excellent opportunities to rebel against authority, and he had fomented numerous mutinies in which he was always victorious, but which usually landed him in one of the malodorous Martian jails for a more or less extended stay. Then had come that final fracas in the Kaupu foundry on the bank of Canal Pyramus. Overly optimistic, Luke's new boss had struck out at the chunky red headed Earthman during an inconsequential argument and had promptly measured his length in a sand pile as a ham like fist crashed home. In return they had picked up the foreman and taken him to the infirmary, where it was found that his skull was fractured and that he had little chance for life. There were the Red police after that, and Luke single handed trounced four of them so soundly and thoroughly that some one sent in a riot call. It had taken a dozen of the reserves to club him into submission at the last that was too much for Martian justice. In pronouncing sentence, the judge had termed Luke an incurably vicious character and a menace to society such as the planet had never harbored. And Luke, his head swathed in bandages from which his wiry hair bristled like the comb of a game cock. Locke had grinned evilly and snarled his defiance. And so they were taking him to the dread prison camp known as Vulcan's Workshop, a mysterious place of horror and hardship from which no convict had ever returned. Vaguely, Luke knew that it was located on still another world away, off somewhere in the heavens. He had seen the lips of men go white when they were condemned to its reputed torture, had heard them plead for death in preference. Yet its terrors had not awed him, they did not awe him now. He had beaten the law before, he'd beat it again, even in Vulcan's Workshop. A key rattled in the lock and Luke Fenton leaped to his feet facing the barred door with feet spread wide and with his massive shoulders hunched expectantly. He could see now with much blinking and watering of his still aching eyes, and he looked out with sneering disapproval at the three guards in the corridor.
- [263:42]
A
Hey everybody, lady luck here and we're celebrating America's 250th birthday. Now all summer long I'm going to be celebrating by playing on spinquest.com which is an American owned social casino. It obviously features over a thousand slot games and live blackjack life craps, live bubble crafts. Head on over to spinquest.com get yourself a $30 coin pack for just 10 bucks. Spin Quest is a free to play social casino, Boyd. Where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [264:13]
B
They were afraid of him. Singly, these Martian cops, even though armed with the deadly dart guns and with shot loaded billies. So afraid, Luke chuckled inwardly that they had kept him from the other prisoners throughout the trip up, kept him in solitary confinement. The door was opening and it came to Luke that the Ethership was strangely and hollowly silent. The rocket tubes were stilled. That was it. And even the motors that drove the great ventilating Fans had been stopped. They had arrived. No time now to start anything. He would have to submit tamely to whatever they might mete out to him in the way of punishment until he got the lay of the land. It would require some time to study things out and to plan. But plan he would, and act. They'd never hold him here until he died of whatever it was that killed men quickly in Vulcan's workshop. Not Luke Fenton. Sullenly docile, he was prodded forward to the airlock. A draught of hot, fetid air swept through the corridor, carrying with it the forewarning of unspeakable things to come, and a shriek of mortal terror wafted in from outside by. The stinking breeze told of some poor devil already demoralized. The thick muscles of Luke's biceps tightened to hard knots under his black prison jacket. They were outside then, and Luke essayed a deep breath, a breath that was chokingly acrid in his throat.
- [265:50]
A
Och.
- [265:51]
B
He coughed and spat. One of the guards laughed. Any foul epithet that might have formed on Fenton's lips was forgotten in the sight that met his eyes. A barren and rugged terrain stretched out from the landing stage, a land utterly desolate of vegetation and incapable of supporting life, pock marked with craters and seamed with yawning fissures from which dense vapours curled. It was seemingly devoid of habitation, and the scene was visible only in the lurid half light of flame shot mists that hung low over all in the all too near distance, awesomely vast and ruddy columns of fire rose and fell with monotonous regularity. For the first time Luke experienced something of the superstitious fear exhibited by even the most hardened criminals when faced with a term at Vulcan's workshop. That term to them meant horror and misery, torture and swift death, and he too was ready to believe it. Now he was prodded down an incline that led from the landing stage to the rocks below. The guards from the ether ship, he saw remained behind on the platform, and there were new guards awaiting him below. Husky fellows. These were, in strange bulky clothing and armed with the highest powered dart guns. The other prisoners from the vessel were already down there, a huddled and frightened mass, a squashed pile, almost silent now, and watchful of their jailers. Come on, show some speed, tough guy. A guard yelled from the foot of the Runway. Think this is a reception. Another of the guards guffawed hoarsely, and Luke choked back the blasting retort that rose in his throat. Plenty of time yet before he'd be ready to make things Hot for those birds. The Runway, he observed, was a strip of yielding metal that glowed faintly with an unnatural greenish light. He was nearing its lower end when the siren of the ether ship shrieked and he heard the clang of the outer door of its airlock as it swung to its seat. Then he stepped out to the smooth stone slab on which the nearest of the guards was standing. Immediately it was as if a tremendous weight was flung upon him, bearing him down until his knees buckled beneath him. He was rooted to the spot by an enormous force which dragged at his vitals and weighted his limbs to leaden uselessness. With a mighty effort he raised his head to look up into the grinning yellow face of the guard, and his thick neck muscles were taut, gnarled ridges under the strain. Damn your hide. He howled. It's a trick. I'll break you in two for this, you slob. His huge biceps tensed and his fists came up, but they came up slowly and ineffectually ponderous things he could scarcely lift. A great roaring of rocket tubes was in his ears then, and the Ethership's screamed off through the red mists while he dabbed futilely at the leering yellow face, and vile curses rasped between his set teeth at the laughter of the guards. Luke Fenton never had taken the trouble to learn, or he would have known something about this planet Vulcan, on which he was a prisoner as far back as 1859. By Earth chronology. Its existence within the orbit of Mercury had been reported by one Lescherbalt, a French physician, but other astronomers had failed to confirm, in fact had ridiculed his discovery, and it was not until some years after the establishing of interplanetary travel in the first decade of the 21st century that the body was definitely located. Vulcan, the smallest and innermost of the planets, circles the sun with great rapidity at a mean distance of 20 million miles. Its periods of rotation and revolution are equal, so that it always presents the same face towards the solar system's great centre of heat and light, for which reason one side is terrifically hot and the other, that facing into outer space, unbearably cold. There is no life native to the body, and mankind has found it impossible to exist only in the narrow belt immediately on the dark side of the terminator, the line of demarcation between night and day. Here there are the dense vapours, illuminated perpetually by refracted light from the daylight side and by the internal fires of the planet itself, fires which erupt at regular intervals through many fissures and craters, and it is Only under greatest hardship that men can even exist here, what with the noxious gases and the extremes of heat and cold to which his body is subjected. There is no natural source of water or of food, so these essentials must of necessity be conveyed from Mars or Earth by ethership. In spite of all this, man has persisted in establishing himself in the vapour belt of Vulcan for the sake of wresting from the rocky soil its vast deposits of rare ores. And a great number of mining operations are continually in progress. All of these are commercial projects and are worked by adventurous seekers of fortune, save only the penal colony known as Vulcan's Workshop. But no terrestrial or Martian, however greedy for riches, would dare to remain longer than two lunar months, which is the average time limit of human endurance. Only the condemned remain, and these remain to die. Though hardly more than 200 miles in diameter, Vulcan is possessed of a surface gravity almost six times greater than that on Earth. This is due to the planet's core of neutronium, the densest known substance of the universe, a little understood concentration of matter whose atoms comprise only nuclei, from which all negative electrons have been stripped by some stupendous copy cataclysm of nature. And so it was that Luke Fenton, uninsulated from the tremendous gravity pull when he stepped from the charged metal of the Runway, was struggling against his own bodily weight suddenly increased to more than 1200 pounds. Doggedly the Earthman pitted his mighty sinews against the force he could not understand. Here was an intangible thing, yet it was a power that challenged his own brute strength, and he exerted himself to the limit in accepting the challenge. With legs spread wide and with sweat oozing from every pore, he heaved himself erect, straightening knees and spine and standing there firmly on his two feet. He's carrying it. Came the husky whisper of a guard. This bird is tough. Craftily, Luke bared his white teeth, even teeth, in a good humoured grin. He had seen what they were doing with the other prisoners, fitting them one by one with strange bulky breeches, garments that gave forth a faint greenish glow like that of the Runway. And each of the men so attired was enabled somehow to get his feet easily and walk about as if unhampered by the force which had flattened him to the rocks and which still held Luke's straining body in its grip. The yellow skinned guard, a terrestrial of Asiatic origin, was solemnly engaged now in lacing the slitted legs of a similar garment to Luke's rigid nether limbs. Yet there was no cessation of that Awful weight. When the thing was done, the guard stepped back and leered wickedly. He had slung his dart gun over his shoulder and now produced a slender black tube, which he levelled at Luke's mid section. You walk now, Fenton, he snarled. The earthman rose upward as if he would leave the ground. 2 or 3 inches seemed added to his stature, and his muscles trembled from the sudden release. He stepped a pace forward. Then a light beam flashed forth from the black tube and Luke sagged down with an astonished oath, squeezed, grunting from his throat. The swift renewal of the inexplicable force had caught him off balance, and he dropped ignominiously to his kn Ha, gloated the Oriental. It is thus we control the tough ones. Fenton, I've given you a warning. Now get up and march. On the last word came blessed release and the return of Luke's strength. He marched meekly, falling in with the file of new prisoners. He even smiled through the red stubble of his beard. But black hatred was in his heart and renewed determination that he would get away from this place somehow, alive. Time would show him the way. Fenton's slow but retentive mind absorbed many things during the succeeding few days. There was neither night nor day in this hellish place, only the flame lit mists, but they had clocks like those on earth, and you worked 14 hours on the slope or in the smelter and had the rest of each so called day of 24 hours in which to eat and sleep. Sleep. The food was coarse, but there was plenty of it. There was only water to drink, lukewarm, stinking stuff doled out sparingly in rusty tin cups, and during the sleeping periods you were required to take off the gravity insulated garments and sleep in huts with insulated floor coverings. The charged floor, of course, allowed you to sleep without being smashed flat on the uncomfortable cotton huts. But they had you safe in these sleeping huts. They took away your clothes, and you couldn't step out of the door without taking on the weight of half a dozen men. The workshop itself was in a vast excavation, from whose slopes a silvery vane door was being removed. There were the blast furnace and reduction plant on one side, and the convict's hut, and more pretentious houses of the guards on the other hand, and the choking mists and the lurid flame behind the stifling heat. Luke learned, too, that every ninth day, with what they called the Liberation of Vulcan, there came an equal period of raw and biting cold to replace the heat. As bad or worse that would be. There were perhaps 300 prisoners here, Luke guessed, and a guard allotted to each squad of 15 men. Not many guards for so large a number of convicts, but enough. The weird gravity of Vulcan had taken care of that. And the flashlight things they always carried queer lights that would instantly neutralize the insulating property of his clothing and render a man helpless. Luke was working high up on the slope with a rock drill and pick, the group to which he had been assigned and composed entirely of new prisoners, mostly white men but with a few blacks and one coppery skinned drylander of Mars. Whimpering, hopeless creatures, all of them not worth his notice. All day he laboured without speaking to any of them and the quantities of ore he removed gave mute evidence of his vigour. If Kulan, the giant Martian guard, took any notice of it, he gave no sign. During the sleeping period, which they persisted in calling night things were different. No guards were needed in the escape proof huts and there was some surreptitious fraternizing among the prisoners. As long as they made no undue noise they were left to their own devices, but for the most part they went to sleep heavily and wordlessly. As soon as they flung into their bunks a broken spirited lot, Luke saw men suffering from some horrible malady that made them cough and scream and bleed from the nose and mouth. Old timers. These were men who had survived for as many as three or four months. He saw them in their agony, begged the guards for a merciful death, heard the brutal laughter of their tormentors. Only when they were no longer able to rise from their bunks were they put out of their misery one by one of the singing darts from the senior guard's gun. Novak had it, this malady known as X C Novak, the scarred face, yellow fanged rat who occupied the bunk beneath Luke's and who talked to him in hoarse whispers long after the others had gone to sleep. It was from Novak that Luke was learning and the knowledge he gained by listening to the doomed man served only to intensify the flame of hate that smouldered deep in his barrel like chest. After three red lit days of gruelling labor and three similarly red lit nights of listening to Novak, he reached the grudging conclusion that escape from this place was impossible. With his conviction there came to him a deeper bitterness and the resolve that he, Luke Fenton, would have his revenge before he went the way of the rest. Perhaps the law had him for keeps this time it certainly seemed so, but he'd leave his mark on its representatives. Yet at inspection preceding the Next labor period, Luke began doing things. The prisoners were lined up and the guards were parading the line, reassigning them to new work squads, which were shifted and rearranged every third day. Kulon, the big Martian, selected Luke. You, Fenton. He snapped, 10 paces forward. Luke grinned but made no move. Amazed, the guards stepped closer. You hurt me. He roared. I am keeping you and my squad, tough guy. A ripple of astonished comment ran along the line and the other guards bellowed for silence. Kulon fingered the black tube of his neutral beam and his broad face was chalky white. Luke advanced two paces, still grinning, and he looked up sneeringly into the grim face that was a foot above his own. That's right, you big ape, he grated. You ain't man enough to fight the way men fight. Gotta use dart guns or gravity. It was sheer baiting of the big Martian. Fenton was shrewd and he knew the fellow's kind. Quick to resent insult and prouder of their physical size and powers than of any other possession. He saw the flush that rose to replace the guard's pallor, saw the huge, lithe body go tense. Laughing derisively, he completed his 10 paces with leisurely aplomb. Speechless with rage, Coulon stood rigid. Furtive boos and a few hoarse cheers came from somewhere in the long line of convicts, and Luke saw several men flattened to the ground by swift, darting neutral beams. And then the head of the guard came running from the small bastion. What the hell? He demanded of Kulon. Any trouble? Kulan saluted and his eyes were narrow slits. No, sir, he returned stiffly. No trouble. Eyeing Luke suspiciously. The senior guard grunted, then moved along the line, and the work of re allotting squads went on. It was exactly as Fenton had expected. This Coulon, a head over him in stature and broad in proportion, was sure in his mind that he could handle the red headed Earthman without resort to weapons, and the taunt as to his physical ability had struck home in some way. That guard would manoeuvre matter so the encounter could come about. Besides guides, he would endeavor to keep Luke in his squad, where he would be able to drive him to the utmost. The guards, Novak said, were on the job only a month when they were replaced by fresh recruits, and their pay was based on the productivity of the squads they commanded. Kulon had seen that the Earthman was a real sapper, worth three of the others, and he tried to keep it so. That working period was a highly gratifying one to Luke, with the ranking hatred concentrated and directed at Kulan. He was positively gleeful, and yet he was content to abide his time. He swung his pick and wielded his rock drill with joyful abandon, so that three men were kept busy loading the ore he removed. Kulon, he saw with satisfaction, was sullen and watchful. But no word passed between the two, and the earthman knew that he had planted a seed that was bound to sprout and grow until it bore fruit. At the midday mess it happened. The shifting of men had brought Novak in the same squad with Luke, and they came in to sit at the long table together. Kulan eyed them narrowly from the head of the board. Say, novak whispered, you got under Cooley's skin. Know it. He'll run you ragged. Yes. Luke looked up at the guard, saw he was scowling darkly in their direction, and grinned evilly. I'll run him, you mean. I'll bust him in two if I get my hands on him. You ain't got a chance, I tell you. I seen this guy once take a poke at a guard, and what they done to him was plenty. They? With that, the wasted body of Novak bent double, and he dropped to the ground screaming. Blood gushed from his nostrils. Luke had seen the same thing happen to several others, and he knew what to expect. It was all over for Novak, or nearly over. Kulan came running and turned the stricken man face up. You'll last another period, he snarled. Get up and eat. He yanked Novak to his feet and shook him as he would a sack of meal. The sick man moaned and begged, his head rolling from side to side and his eyes filmed with pain. Let me have it, he whimpered. I'm done, I tell you. Cooley. Git. Gannet. If you don't believe me. Coulon slapped him heavily with the flat of his massive hand. You'll work another period, sewer rat, if I have to prop you up. Then Luke Fenton took a chance. He didn't care particularly for Novak, nor was he overly concerned by what might happen to him, but this gave him an excuse, an opening. He hooked his thick fingers in the collar of Kulan's jacket and twisted until the big Martian loosed Novak and whirled around. Then Luke drove a hard fist to his jaw, a pulled punch so as not to betray his real strength. Nevertheless, it set the guard back on his heels and split the taut skin where it landed. Pandemonium broke loose in the mess hall. Gannett, the senior guard, came bellowing down the aisle, and the squad guards were on their feet in an instant, neutral tubes and dart Guns ready. The uproar of the prisoners died down. Kulan shook his shaggy head and crouched low as he circled the Earthman. Murder was in his heart and the urge to break this tough guy Fenton with his bare hands. But Gannet was between them. Hells bells, he yelped. What goes on here? Then he saw Novak and heard him. Novak was writhing on the ground, begging for death, and the chief guard's dart gun twanged as its needle like missile sped forth and drove into the sick man's breast, where it sang its shrill song of vibratory dissolution in the twinkling of an eye. Where Novak had lain was only the dust of complete disintegration and a few scintillating dancing light flecks that swiftly snuffed out a speedy and merciful end. In the silence that followed, Gannet turned on Kulan. Why didn't you send for me? He demanded. The guard, white with rage, indicated Luke. So, the tough guy Fenton again. Can't you handle him? Kulan's yellow eyes flashed fire. Sure I can. I will. But I want your permission, sir. With my hands. No. Flatly, and then Gannet whirled to look over the mess tables, whence a few scattered hisses had arisen. His gaze was solemn when he returned it to Kulan. Swiftly his black eyes measured the Martian giant's body, and then they swung to Luke. The comparison evidently pleased him, for he changed his mind. On second thought. Yes, he said to Kulan, it'll be good for discipline. Only don't disable him. He's too valuable a worker. Lou concealed his unholy glee, stood glowering savagely. In a fair fight, he put in. In a fair fight, sneered Gannet. He took personal charge of Kulon's weapons. All right, you. He yelled. Then to the mess. You can watch this, but if there's a sound or a move from any one of you, there'll be the neutral broadcast and full gravity for an hour for the whole flea bitten gang of you. He drew back, motioning Luke and Kulon to an open space nearby. There was not the slightest doubt in his mind as to the outcome, for the Martian towered over his stocky opponent and was fully 50 pounds heavier. This irregular procedure would put a stop to some of the open homage paid to this reputed tough guy by the prisoners and to the restlessness among them which his coming had occasioned. They fought instantly and with silent deadliness of purpose, these two. Luke drove in two terrible blows to the big Martian's body in the split second before they closed breathtaking punches that rocked Kulon yet did not slow him up in the least. And then the tangle of arms and legs and bodies of the two was so swift, moving and violent that the watchers could not follow them. Now they were up, slugging, clenching, now down, rolling over and over, straining and tearing at each other like beasts of the jungle. Once breaking free, Luke was seen to batter Kulon's face to a bloody mass with swift hammering fists that thudded too rapidly to count. And then the Martian had flung him to the rocky ground so heavily that it seemed certain the Earthman's end had come.
- [289:29]
A
Hanging out at the pool is great. Relaxing and playing Vegas style games on my phone at the same time. Drink in one hand and a blackjack in the other. It's all at spinquest. Over a thousand games, including your favorite slots and table games. Be cool with this summer special new players get 30 coin packs for 10@Spinquest.com Spin Quest is a free to play social media casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [289:59]
B
But such was not the case, for there was a flailing scramble and Luke Fenton rose up with the great body of Coulon across his shoulders. He spread his legs wide and heaved mightily. The Martian guard kicked and squirmed, lashing out with his huge fists at the squarely built and squarely planted body of the Earthman below him, but to no avail. Grasping a shoulder and a thigh, Fenton straightened his thick arms and Cullen was hoisted aloft. Amazingly, then the madly struggling guard was flung out in a way to land with a sickening thud. Smashed and crumpled on the rocks, Luke stood swaying on those spread eagle legs, and his lungs were near bursting from the exertion in the noxious atmosphere. There you are, Gannet, he howled through swollen lips. That fair enough for you? In the ominous silence a cracked voice yelped, attaboy, Fenton. Wild disorder followed. Immediately there was the raucous call of the general alarm siren and a flashing light from the bastion that paled the red mist to a sickly luminous Spink full gravity coming down with crushing force on the hapless prisoners. Luke, as he was flattened, gasping painfully under the enormous pressure, saw that Gannet and the rest of the guards were not affected by the neutral broadcast. They stood erect and moved freely among the prisoners, who sprawled everywhere in grotesque, squashed heaps. Queer. There was no way of beating the authorities at this game. Section 16 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science Fiction Novellas by Harold Vincent Vulcan's Workshop Part 2 Gannett Transferred Luke to the dreaded sealed cell in the reduction plant, a room spoken of in hushed whispers by the convicts and in which was reported an inmate suffered indescribable tortures for the better part of three weeks. Then he died in horrible misery, for one could not survive longer than that. Coulon had not been killed. He would recover, but was pretty well smashed up with a fractured hip and several broken ribs, one of which had punctured a lung. It would be necessary to return him to Mars on the next ethership, due in two days. Strangely, the news brought Luke no great amount of satisfaction. When they locked him up in the sealed cell for his first period of labour, he saw there was only one other occupant, a tall, lanky earth man with narrow aristocratic features and keen grey eyes. He was perhaps 45, slightly stooped and with thin greying hair. Luke had seen him several times at mess and had contemptuously classed him as a highbrow. Fuller, his name was. This was a small room where several slender shoots brought down tumbling crystals of silvery salt from somewhere above stove, emptying it into glass containers that stood in endless rows on wooden racks. You filled these containers with the salt, then sealed them in lead tubes and packed them for shipment. There was a faint pungent odour in the air of the room, a new smell that widened Luke's nostrils and caught at his throat and lungs. In this place you were watched by a guard who came regularly each half hour and spied on you through a peep hole. Child's play. The work in the sealed cell. Luke went at it half heartedly and spoke no word to Fuller after the heavy door had closed them in. After 10 minutes of silence, he caught himself watching his companion furtively. What was there about Fuller that marked him as superior to Luke and the rest of the convicts? A good gust of wind would blow the man away. A woman might easily beat him in a rough and tumble. Yet this man had something which unmistakably proclaimed greatness. The same thing that gave authority and power to the smart guys of Earth and Mars. Brains. Book learning. Luke snorted. Fuller was looking at him with calmly appraising gaze. Luke scowled darkly, but the keen eyes that measured him did not waver. You're a fool, Fenton, came from the thin lips. What? Luke advanced threateningly. I repeat, you are a fool. Still, the gray eyes were unwavering. Why you. You spasmodically Luke's fingers closed down on the spare shoulder with crushing force. By not so much as a flicker in an eyelash did Fuller betray the pain that must have come with that grip. He did not even wince, but swiftly lashed out with a bony fist, raking Luke's cheek with hard knuckles. The blow stung, but it was utterly futile. With a single cuff, Luke could send the man sprawling with a single wrench of his powerful hands snap his spine. Yet he did neither, and the impulse to laugh coarsely died in his throat. Here was the courage of a kind he had never encountered here a man whose bright eyes, fearlessness, and defiance mingled with a cool disdain that brought the first real feeling of inferiority Luke ever had experienced. He relaxed his grip on Fuller's shoulder and his big hands fell loosely at his sides. It was that action which saved Fenton. He did not know at the time, nor would he have believed it, but he was to remember many times and finally to realize it. It, though he never fully understood. That's better, breathed Fuller, and the ghost of a smile crinkled the corner of his mouth at the old man's warning. Luke returned to his own work bench and was industriously engaged when the guard's eye showed at the peep hole. Then the eye was gone and he grinned over at Fuller. How long have you been in here? He ventured. Five days in the sealed cell. 10 altogether in the workshop. Luke pondered this. How'd you get in the cell? Same way you did. I struck a guard. No. Marveled Luke. Mean to tell me you I had good reason to get in here? Fuller broke in mildly. You. You wanted to get in? Luke was incredulous. I did. My God, you ain't crazy. Want to get yourself killed off quicker? No, that isn't it, fuller explained patiently. I've a plan to escape, and only by taking the chance of spending some time here could I obtain access to the necessary materials. Fenton, I'm a scientist and I know escape. Luke snorted. You are crazy. Where are you going to go? Listen, Fenton. The other dropped his voice. I'm not doing this blindly. I have friends outside and you can help me. You can get away yourself alive. I called you a fool, and by that I meant that you have relied too much on brute force in your lifetime and not had sense enough to realize that this brought only trouble. Combine your brawn with my brains now and do as I say. If you will. I promise you freedom. Will you do it? Or do you want to keep on being a fool? Luke bristled, but the Earnestness of that steady gaze served to check his rising temper. I still think you're nuts, he growled. But hell, I ain't fool enough to pass up any kind of chance of getting out of here. Gimme the dope. Fuller coughed slightly, and a fleck of red tinged foam appeared at his lips. It'll have to be today, he whispered. One more day in this place and it will be too late for me. X.C. luke stared, horrified. Fuller had it already and didn't know it. Poor devil. He was a goner before he started this crazy break of his. Strangely, Luke was deeply concerned. It was a new experience, this feeling of compassion for a fellow man. Today, he grunted. You ain't figurin on gettin out today? Positively. It must be today. I'll explain. Much of what followed was unintelligible to Luke Fenton, but he absorbed enough of the scientist's explanation to understand that his plan was not impossible of realization. He waxed enthusiastic. Tom Fuller was vague concerning his own past, but Luke gathered that a political crime had been responsible for his sentence to the workshop. There was much bitterness in the scientist's refusal to dwell on this point. This, too, Luke was able to understand, the bond between them strengthened. It's like this, fuller told him. These suits which enable us to move about comfortably in Vulcan's gravity are really quite simple in their functioning. A maze of fine wires is woven into the fabric, and these wires are charged with anti gravity energies from tiny capsules which are inserted under the belt of the garment. The capsules are really miniature atomic generators and are replaced with fresh ones each night during the sleeping period. Since the initial charge lasts only 18 hours, the generated energies neutralize more than 80% of the effect of gravity, and our weight thus becomes approximately approximately the same as it is on Earth. Such garments are worn by all the prospectors and other visitors to Vulcan. How come the neutral beams? Asked Luke. They are used only here in the workshop, and they operate the same as the neutral broadcast from the bastion, the only difference being that the broadcast blankets an area of about 2 miles in all directions. In both cases vibratory ther waves are sent out, and these are of such frequency in waveform as to neutralise the anti gravity engines originating in our capsules. They render our suits useless, but those of the guards are provided with insulated coverings which block off the waves and thus permit their own garments to function even when the neutral broadcast is in operation. Smart guys, commented Luke. Too smart. How the devil are we going to get away then? They'll send out the alarm and ah. That is where we fool them, Fenton, with the radium. Radium? Yes. Didn't you know? This ore we mine here contains a higher percentage of that valuable element than any on Earth or Mars. Its emanations, together with certain atmospheric gases of Vulcan, are what cause xc a swift destruction of tissue in the lungs and other vital organs. And this concentrate, Fuller waved his hand toward the rows of tubes before him, is most highly radioactive of all the products of the workshop. That is why the sealed cell is so very dangerous to work in. But it is this radioactive salt that gives us the means for escape. Both men turn quickly to their labors on hearing the footsteps of the guard. My suit is already prepared, continued Fuller when the eye had gone from the peep hole. Now to prepare yours, I discovered that this radioactivity can be used to defeat the purpose of the neutral waves as well or better than the regular insulation, which of course we cannot obtain. That is why I wanted to be in the sealed cell for a time. We merely pack a quantity of the radioactive salt around the capsules in the lining of our garments, and the radium emanations continue the excitation of the tiny atomic generators even under the influence of the neutralizing vibrations. Do you follow me? Yes. Luke did comprehend, even though the technical explanation was beyond his understanding, they would be able to defy this terrible gravity of Vulcan. They could fight unhampered, walk or run to meet these mysterious friends of Fuller's. The flashlights in the broadcast would be useless against them. The lanky scientist outlined the further details of his plan in swift whispers while he worked with the energizing capsule of Luke's garment. Actual escape was surprisingly easy. They waited until the labor period was finished when Chandei, the yellow skinned guard, came to unlock the door. As agreed, Tom Fuller came out first, and Luke held back, dragging his feet and cursing softly to himself. What'd you say? Snarled the guard. Luke grinned disarmingly. Nothing, he drawled. Still he hung back, scarcely moving from where he stood just within the door. Come on, tough guy, a little speed. Chande reached for him and then Luke was upon him. The neutral beam flashed harmlessly. Luke's big hands moved with lightning swiftness, his left one scooping the guard's dart gun from his shoulder strap and his right closing on the astonished oriental twinpipe. It was the work of only an instant to choke him in unconsciousness and lock him in the sealed cell. Quick, the chute. Hissed Fuller. He dived head foremost into a rectangular wooden trough that was used for the disposal of the gang from a crushing mill above. This chute, Fuller had said, led to the outside at the back of the reduction plant. Across the passage, Luke saw a squad of convicts and two guards emerging from the lift. Then he plunged down the steeply inclined trough after Fuller. As he slid and tumbled into the darkness, he heard the hoarse shouting of the guards. He landed heavily in the pile of gangue at the base of the chute, then was scrambling and slipping down with an avalanche of the sharp edged stone. At the bottom he saw that Fuller had already started up the slope of the great pit, which enclosed the workshop. Luke darted after him.
- [305:04]
A
Happy birthday, America. It's time to celebrate and play your favorite Las Vegas casino games by American owned spinquest.com what's better than fireworks and American pie? Hitting a blackjack in the palm of your hand and you won't lose your fingers. Over a thousand games, including slots and live dealers and 30 coin packs are on sale for 10 spinquest.com buy American players for American players, Spin Quest is a free to play social casino. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [305:35]
B
They were hidden from the bastion by the buildings of the smelter and reduction plant, but the loud yelling of the guards back there in the pit gave evidence that word of the scape was being passed along to Gannett. Before they were half way up the slope, there was the shriek of the alarm siren, and Luke felt his body sag with a sudden increase of weight. Fool that he had been to trust the scrawny scientist. It's the broadcast, panted Fuller beside him. There is some effect, of course. You're probably carrying 50 extra pounds, huh? Luke hoped it would be no worse. Fuller slipped into a narrow crevice that ran slantwise of the slope and extended upward to the rim of the pit. The going was much easier here, and they made rapid progress toward the top. Up. Suddenly Luke realized that it was growing very cold. There was a bite to the foul air, and moisture from the red mist was frosting his beard. The liberation of the tiny planet and consequent shifting of the terminator was bringing frigidity to Vulcan's workshop. They came up out of the crevice at the top of the pit, and Luke could not resist looking back. Every convict in sight was flattened to the ground. They sprawled singly and in heaps, each one a squashed, inert thing that would not move again until the neutral broadcast was discontinued. The guards, confident they would find the escaped prisoners in like condition, were searching the slope below them. Duke raised Chandei's dart gun to his shoulder. Fuller struck aside the muzzle of the weapon. No, he protested. No unnecessary killing, Fenton. They're completely fooled, and we'll be well on our way before they know the truth. Grumbling, Luke drew back from the rim of the excavation. Up here the ground was fairly level, but there were many fissures and small craters which made the footing precarious. The mists were so dense they could see scarcely 200ft ahead. We'll be lost in the vapors when they finally wake up and come out after us, fuller said. And look, Fenton. Off there to the left are the three columns of fire that marked the rendezvous. They plunged on through the red mist toward the flaming pillars. Those beacons, even though they subsided at regular intervals, quickly reappeared after each cessation, and their brilliance penetrated the mists with ease. At this distance of about two miles, there was no fear of missing their destination. Sure your friends will be there? Luke asked doubtfully. He was beginning to have some misgivings about the matter. The scientist had been anything but explicit as to who these friends were, and the longer his thoughts dwelt upon the things Fuller had told him, the more suspicious he became. Pretty cagy about everything but the actual getting away from the workshop up Fuller had been certainly they will. They've been waiting two days. Fuller's tone was impatient, and his words came painfully. You leave that part of it to me, Fenton, he gasped. There was a fleck of blood at his lips. As the scientist stumbled on through the mists, Luke's doubt increased, and he began to lose his respect for the man's intellect and for the cunning which had enabled him to outwit the neutralizing energies used by the guards. Cards. After all, he was a weak and puny specimen. They all were, the smart guys who held the people of two worlds in their power by exercising the knowledge they had learned from books. And this one had failed even in that. Whatever he might have been, he had run afoul of the law himself and was already a doomed man. Tricks. This trick of Fuller's had gotten them away, but of what use was it without the brute force necessary to carry on to a successful end? The brawn Tom had spoken of so slightly was what they needed from this time on, and nothing else would save them. Luke had that brawn. Fuller did not. The scientist slipped and nearly lost his balance at the edge of a fissure, but Luke made no move to help him. It was every man for himself at this stage of the game. Increasing difficulty came with every step. Now they were sliding and rolling into a deep crater now scrambling up its steep sides with hands torn and bodies bruised by the jagged boulders. A yawning crevice opened before them, and they were forced to skirt its edge for fully half a mile in the wrong direction before they found a crossing. And the cold was unbelievably intense. Numbed and silent, their eyes half blinded and lungs seared by the frosty air, they struggled on toward the three pillars of flame, and still Tom Fuller carried on, though Luke was now in the lead. They had covered probably half the distance to the flaming columns when shouts arose behind them. The guards were on their trail. Can't find us, fuller panted. The mists. Hell, the mists are clearing. Luke snarled. You ain't so damn smart as you think. What he said was true, though there was less light on account of the new angle. With the sun farther below the horizon, the red mist was definitely lighter in color, noticeably less dense. Visibility was good to several hundred yards. Luke turned his head but could see nothing of their pursuers. They can't, fuller insisted. Weakly. Luke pushed on with renewed vigor, ignoring him, cursing. And then there came faintly to his ears, the twang of a dart gun, the shrill scream of its deadly vibrating missile, a violent blow that flung him headlong like a cat. He bounced to his feet, crouching with Chandei's dart gun at his shoulder. A strangely grotesque heap was at his feet. Tom Fuller. Off there in the thinning mist he saw a shadowy figure, and he fired at it twice. Whether his darts found their mark he was never to know, for a wall of white swept down suddenly to obscure his vision. Snow, great mast flakes falling endlessly, the moisture of the mist crystallized and closing in on him to hide him even more safely than had the mists themselves. He was on his knees then, at Fuller's side. A brilliant flash and a screaming roar over amongst the rocks apprised him of the fact that the guard's dart had gone wide. And yet Fuller was down. Moaning with pain, Luke tried to turn him over and found that his body had taken on tremendous weight. He was flattened, crushed to the rocky surface of Vulcan by the full force of its gravity. What the devil? He grunted as he heaved and strained. What'd they do to you, old man? With great effort he succeeded in turning the scientist face up. Then he saw what had happened. He knew in a flash that Fuller had saved him from the singing dart, whose energy was making a sizzling puddle of the stones where it had landed. The missile in passing had carried away the belt and part of the fabric of Tom's garment. It carried away the capsule and the radium that energized it, made the thing worse than useless. And Fuller had done this for him. He had flung himself upon Luke to shove him out of the line of fire, risking his own life gladly. Lucky the deadly dart had missed his body. But you go on, Fenton, the scientist was whispering through lips that were blue and stiff. Leave me here. I'm licked. But you can carry on the work. Go to my friends and tell them everything. Tell them what you saw back there. Tell them. Shut up. Luke's words were softly growled. There was a new and utterly unaccountable huskiness in his voice as he straddled the prone body and locked his strong fingers underneath. You ain't going to be left behind, he grunted. We're going on, brother. Together his back straightened and Fuller was swung clear off the ground. His huge biceps tensed and the scrawny scientist was up in the air, up and above the bowed head, then let down gently to rest across the broad shoulders of Luke Fenton. Fuller hung there, bent double by the immense weight of him, crushed to painful contact with the taut muscles that carried the strain on earth. Fuller might have tipped the scales at a scant one hundred and thirty pounds. Now his sagging body was a load in excess of 700 weight. With that load upon him, and glorying in the effort it cost, Luke staggered on toward the triple red glow which, even in the blinding whiteness of the snowfall, marked the location of the columns of fire. That all feeling had left his limbs in the deep biting cold meant nothing. That his lungs were near bursting under the terrific strain meant even less. Luke Fenton had found a man, one he would fight for, not against, and miraculously, he had found himself. After that there was a blur of interminable torture. Reeling and stumbling, his leg and back muscles shot through with stabbing pain as the frost worked slowly upward. Luke prodded doggedly ahead. An occasional shout came from far behind where the guards still searched the rocky plateau across his great shoulders. Luke's burden was a dead weight of corpse like rigidity and stillness.
- [315:49]
A
Forget whatever plans you have this weekend because you're staying at home and playing on spinquest, and there's never been a better time to sign up than right now. New users get $30 coin packs for just $10, all the table games you love, with hundreds of slot games and real cash Prizes. That's at spinquest.com S P I N Q U-E-T.com Spinquest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [316:18]
B
Yet Luke clung to it, tenaciously disposing the drooping leaden limbs as comfortably as possible by the judicious spreading of his own brawny arms. Fuller, he was sure, had not long to live. In any event, XC had already progressed to such a point that it was hardly possible he could recover. And yet these smart guys like Luke always had detested the doctors and surgeons and such. They might be able to do something for the poor devil. Anyway, he determined he'd get the scientist to his friends, dead or alive, and he'd see to it that they treated him right. If they didn't the red glow was suddenly very bright, and a silvery metallic shape loomed up before him in the whiteness. An ethership. Luke tried to call out, but his bellowing voice was gone. Only faint gurgling sounds came from his throat. He pushed forward with a savage summoning of his last ounce of energy, and Fuller's weight was that of a mastodon upon him. The curved hull of the vessel was overhead when he slipped and fell to one knee in the thick carpet of snow. Luke saw them then, a dozen strangers running from the open air lock of the ship in uniform, some of them government officials of Earth and Mars. Damn them, it was a trap. Knowing vaguely that they had surrounded him, him, he let Fuller slip from his shoulders and lowered him gently to the snow. Lurching to his feet, he stood swaying above the scientist's body, ready to defend the helpless man against any who came to take him. Defiant curses died in his paralyzed throat as darkness swooped down to blot out all consciousness. His steel sinewed body, beaten at last, slumped protectingly over the lanky form of his new found friend. When Luke next saw the light, he stared long and hard at the immaculate white walls and ceiling that shut him in. A gentle purring was in his ears, and he knew he was in an ethership that was under way. He lay weak and helpless beneath snowy covers on an iron hospital bed. There were voices in the room, hushed, odd voices, and Luke moved his head painfully to stare across the room. Fuller, he saw, was stretched on another cot, pale and still, and a white clad nurse was there, bending over him, talking softly to a doctor. The words that passed between them brought enlightenment to Luke and more. They brought a new elation and understanding and hope. When the doctor and nurse had left, Luke lay for a long time with his thoughts. There was a man, Tom Fuller, unafraid as an agent of a special governmental committee investigating prison conditions, he had volunteered to get the evidence on Vulcan's workshop. And he had done it, even though it was almost certain that his own life was to be the price. He had dared the misery and hardship, dared X C and the horrible death it brought that this hell hole of Vulcan might be exposed, that it might be wiped out of existence by government agreement. Vulcan's Workshop, where the gold dust of a certain political clique brought torture and disease and extinction to hapless prisoners who might otherwise be remade into useful members of society by the use of scientific methods. All this was to be no more. Fuller had succeeded where many others had failed. And Fuller was not to die. Only one of his lungs had been affected by xc and this not too extensively to respond to treatment. Many months of careful attendance would be required, and many more months of convalescence. But Fuller, they were sure, would live. Luke gloated. From what he had heard, Luke gathered that there was to be no trouble about his own pardon. Oddly enough, this gave him no satisfaction. Something had happened to him inside. For the first time, he realized his debt to society and would have preferred that just sentence be carried out upon him. But not in that place. Not in Vulcan's Workshop. Luke shuddered, and lying there he swore a mighty oath that the remainder of his life was to be devoted to entirely different pursuits. Suits it was not too late to face about, not too late to learn. If Folder would help him, he would learn. He had acquired a healthy respect for the book learning he formerly ridiculed, and he wanted some of it for himself, as much as he could get. His old creed was forgotten and his bitterness vanished. Luke. At the scientist's husky whisper, he turned his head. Fuller was gazing at him with wide, solemn eyes. Thanks, Luke. The thin lips murmured, thanks yourself. Where'd we be right now if it wasn't for your radium? There was silence as they regarded one another. I need you, Luke, fuller whispered then, in my laboratory back home. I'll be laid up for a long time, you know, and there's much to be done. Your brawn and my brain will both profit. What do you say to that, Fenton? Will you do it? Luke grinned. Will I? Just watch me. Then, with a queer lump choking him, Luke looked away. He could think of no words to suit the occasion. He couldn't think at all. Somehow, blissfully, he fell asleep. Section 17 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harl Vincent, Wanderer of Infinity Lenville Bert Redmond had never heard of the place until he received Jones letter, but here it was, a tiny straggling village cuddled amongst the Ramapo hills of lower New York State, only a few miles from Tuxedo. There was a prim white painted church, a general store with the inevitable gasoline pump at the the curb, and a dozen or so of weather beaten frame houses. That was all. It was a typical dusty cross roads hamlet of the vintage of 30 years before, utterly isolated and apart from the rushing life of the broad concrete highway so short a distance away. Bert stopped his ancient and battered flivver at the corner where a group of overalled loungers was gathered. Its asthmatic motor died with a despairing cough as he cut the ignition. Anyone tell me where to find the Carmody Place? He sang out. No one answered, and for a moment there was no movement amongst his listeners. Then one of the loungers, an old man with a stubble of grey beard, drew near and regarded him through thick spectacles. You ain't aimin to go up there alone, be you? The old fellow asked in a thin, cracked voice. Certainly. Why? Bert caught a peculiar gleam in the watery old eyes that were enlarged so enormously by the thick lenses. It was fear of the supernatural that lurked there. Stark terror almost. Don't you go up to the Carmody place, young feller. They's queer doin's in the Big House, is why. Blue lights at night and noises inside, and a cracklin like thunder overhead. Aw, shit up, Gramp. Another of the idlers, a youngster with chubby features and downy of lip and chin, sauntered over from the group, interrupting the old man's discourse. Don't listen to him, he said to Bert. He's cracked a mite. Been seeing things. The Big House is up yonder on the hill, see, with the red chimblee showin through the trees. They's a windin road down there apiece. Bert followed the pointing finger with sudden, anxious gaze. It was not an inviting spot, that tangle of second growth timber and underbrush that hid the Big House on the lonely hillside. It might conceal almost anything, and Joan Parker was there. The one called Gramp was screeching invectives at the grinning bystanders. You pass those young gidgets, he stormed. I seen it, I tell you, and I heard things too. The devil hisself is up there, and his imps we oughtn't to let this feller go. Bert waited to hear no more. Unreasoning fear came to him that something was very much amiss up there at the big house, and he started the flivver with a thunderous barrage of its exhaust. The words of Jones note were vivid in his come to me, Bert, at the Carmody place in Linville. Believe me, I need you. Only that. But it had been sufficient to bring the young Redmond across three states to this measly town that wasn't even on the road maps. Bert yanked the bouncing car into the winding road that led up the hill and thought grimly of the quarrel with Joan two years before. He had told her then, arrogantly, that she'd need him some day, but now that his words had proved true, the fact brought him no consolation nor the slightest elation. Joan was there in this lonely spot, and she did need him. That was enough. He attacked it in vain with his fists. He ran nervous fingers through his already tousled mop of sandy hair, a habit he had when disturbed, and nearly wrecked the car on a gray boulder that encroached on one of the two ruts which together had been termed a road. Stupid. That quarrel of theirs, and how stubborn both had been. Joan had insisted on going to the big city to follow the career her brother had chosen for her chemistry biology laboratory work. Bert sniffed even now, but he had been equally stubborn in his insistence that she marry him instead and settle down on the Middle Western fruit farm. With a sudden twist, the road turned in at the entrance of a sadly neglected Ascend estate. The grounds of the place were overrun with rank growths and the driveway was covered with weeds. The tumble down gables of a decrepit frame house peeped out through the trees. It was a rambling old building that once had been a mansion, a big house of the natives. A musty air of decay was upon it, and crazily askew window shutters proclaimed deep, shrouded mystery within. Bert drew up at the rickety porch and stopped the flivver with its usual shuddering jerk, as if his coming had been watched for through the stained glass of its windows. The door was flung violently open. A white clad figure darted across the porch, but not before Bert had untangled the lean six feet of him from under the flivver's wheel and bounded up the steps. Joan. Bert. I'm sorry. Me too. Swallowing hard, Burt Redmond held her close. But I won't go back to Indiana. The girl raised her chin and the old defiance was in her tearful gaze, Bert stared. Joan was white and wan, a mere shadow of her old self, and she was trembling, hysterical. That's all right, he whispered. But tell me now, what is it? What's wrong? With sudden vigour she was drawing him into the house. It's Tom, she quavered. I can't do a thing with him. Can't get him to leave here, and something terrible is about to happen. I know. I thought perhaps you could help. Even if Tom Parker here. Bert was surprised that the fastidious older brother should leave his comfortable city quarters and lose himself in the Scotland godforsaken place. Sure, I'll help, dear, if I can. Oh, you can. Oh, I'm sure you can, the girl went on tremulously. A spot of color flared in either cheek. It's his experiments. He came over from New York about a year ago and rented this old house. The city laboratory wasn't secluded enough, and I've helped him until now in everything. But I'm frightened. He's playing with dangerous forces he doesn't understand. Won't understand. But I saw. And then Joan Parker slumped into a high backed chair that stood in the ancient panelled hall. Soft waves of her chestnut hair framed the pinched, terrified face, and wide eyes looked up at Bert with the same horror he had seen in those of the old fellow in the village. A surge of the old tenderness welled up in him, and he wanted to take her in his arms. Wait, she said, swiftly rising. I'll let you judge for yourself. Here, go into the laboratory and talk with Tom. She pushed him forward and through a door that closed softly behind him. He was in a large room that was cluttered with the most bewildering array of electrical mechanisms he had ever seen. Joan had remained outside. Tom Parker, his hair greyer and forehead higher than when Bert had seen him last, rose from where he was stooping over a work bench. He advanced smiling, and his black eyes were alight with genuine pleasure. Bert had anticipated a less cordial welcome. Albert Redmond. Exclaimed the older man. This is a surprise. Glad to see you, boy. Glad to see you. He meant it. Tom did, and Bert wrung the extended hand heartily. Yet he dared not tell of Jones. Note the two men had always been the very best of friends, except in the matter of Joan's future. You haven't changed much, bert ventured. Tom Parker laughed. Not about Joan, if that's what you mean. She likes the work and will go far in it. Why, Bert. Say, wait a minute. Bert Redmond's mien was solemn. I saw her outside, Tom, and was shocked. She isn't herself. Doesn't look at all well. Haven't you noticed, man? The older man sobered and a puzzled frown crossed his brow. I have noticed, yes. But it's nonsense, Bert. I swear it is. She has been having dreams. Worrying a lot, it seems. Guess I'll have to send her to the doctor. Dreams, worry. Bert thought of the old man called Gramp. Yes, I'll tell you all about it, what we're working on here and show you. It's no wonder she gets that way. I guess I've been a bit loony with the marvel of it myself at times. Come here. Tom led him to an intricate apparatus which bore some resemblance to a television. Radio? There were countless vacuum tubes and their controls, tiny motors belted to slotted discs that would spin when power was applied, and a double eyepiece. Before I let you look, Tom was saying, I'll give you an idea of it to prepare you. This is a mechanism I've developed for a study of the less understood dimensions. The results have more than justified my expectations. They're astounding, Bert. We can actually see into these realms that were hitherto unexplored. We can examine at close range the life of these other planes. Think of it. Life. Plane dimensions, said Bert blankly. Remember, I know very little about this science of yours. Haven't you read the newspaper accounts of Einstein's researches and of others who have delved into the theory of relativity? Say, I read them, but they don't tell me a thing. It's over my head a mile. Well, listen. This universe of oursspace and all it contains is a thing of five dimensions, a continuum we have never begun to contemplate in its true complexity and immensity. There are three of its dimensions with which we are familiar. Our normal senses perceive and understand them. Length, breadth and thickness. The fourth dimension, time, or more properly, the time space interval we have only recently understood. And this fifth dimension, Bert, is something no man on earth has delved into, excepting myself. You don't say. Bert was properly impressed. The old gleam of the enthusiastic scientist was in Tom's keen eyes. Surest thing. I've called this fifth dimension the interval of oscillation, though the term is not precisely correct. It has to do with the arrangement, the speed and direction of movement and the polarity of protonic and electronic energy charges of which matter is comprised. It upsets some of our old and accepted natural Lawsone in particular, Bert, two objects can occupy the same space at the same time, though only one is perceptible to our Earth bound senses. Their differently constituted atoms exist in the same location without interference, merely vibrating in different planes. There are many such planes in this 5th dimension of space all around us, some actually inhabited. Each plane has a different atomic structure of matter, its own oscillation interval of the energy that is matter, and a set of natural laws peculiar to a self. I can't begin to tell you. In fact I've explored only a fraction. But here, look. Tom's instrument set up a soft purring at his touch of a lever and eerie blue light flickered from behind the double eyepiece face, casting grotesque shadows on the walls and ceiling and paling to insignificance the light of day that filtered through the long unwashed windows. Bert squinted through the hooded twin lenses. At first he was dazed and confused by the rapidly whirling light images, but these quickly resolved into geometric figures, an inconceivable number of them extending off into limitless space in a huge arc, dark, revolving and tumbling like the coloured particles in an old fashioned kaleidoscope. Cubes, pyramids and cones of variegated hues, swift rushing spheres and long slim cylinders of brilliant blue white gleaming discs of polished jet spinning. Abruptly the view stabilized and clear cut stationary objects sprang into being, an unbroken vista of seamed chalky cliffs beside an inky sea whose waters rose and fell rhythmically, yet did not break against the towering palisade. Waveless glass smooth these waters. A huge blood redded sun hanging low in a leaden though cloudless sky, reflecting scintillating flecks of gold and purple brilliance from the ocean's black surface.
- [336:31]
A
Hey everybody, lady luck here and we're celebrating America's 250th birthday now all summer long. And I'm going to be celebrating by playing on spinquest.com which is an American owned social casino. It obviously features over a thousand slot games and live blackjack, live craps, live bubble craps. Head on over to spinquest.com get yourself a $30 coin pack for just 10 bucks. Spin Quest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [337:01]
B
At first there was no sign of life to be seen. Then a mound was rising up from the sea near the cliff, a huge tortoise like shape that stretched forth several flat members which adhered to the vertical white wall as if held by suction disks. Ponderously the thing turned over and headed up from the inky depths, spewing out from its concave underside an army of funny brown bipeds, creatures bloated with torsos in which head and body merged so closely as to be indistinguishable one from the other, balanced precariously on two spindly legs and with long thin arm like tentacles waving and coiling, spider like beings ran out over the smooth dark surface of the sea as if it were solid ground. Jupiter. Bert looked up from the eyepiece, blinking into the triumphant grinning face of Tom Parker. You mean to tell me these creatures are real? He demanded, Living here all around us in another plane where we can't see them without this machine of yours? Sure thing. And this is but one of many such planes. They can't get through to our plane. Lord no, man. How could they? A sharp crackling peal of thunder rang out overhead and Tom Parker went suddenly white. Outside the sky was cloudless. And that. What's that? Bert remembered the warning of the old man of the village and Joan's obvious fear. It. It's only a physical manifestation of the forces I use in obtaining visual connection. One of the things that worries Joan. Yet I can't find any cause for alarm. The scientist's voice droned on endlessly, technically. But Bert knew there was something Tom didn't understand, something he was trying desperately to explain to himself. Thunder rumbled once more, and Bert returned his eyes to the instrument directly before him. In the field of vision, a group of the spider men advanced over the pitchy sea with a curiously constructed cage of woven transparent material, which they set down at a point so close by that it seemed he could touch it it if he stretched out his hand, the illusion of physical nearness was perfect. The evil eyes of the creatures were fastened upon him, tentacle arms uncoiled and reached forth as if to break down the barrier that separated them, and then a scream penetrated his consciousness, wrenching him back to consideration of his immediate surroundings. The laboratory door burst open and Joan, pale and disheveled, dashed into the room. Tom shouted, running forward to intercept her, and Byrd saw what he had not seen before, a 10 foot circle of blue white metal set in the floor and illuminated by a shaft of light from a reflector on the ceiling above Tom's machine. Joan. The force area. Tom was yelling. Keep away. Tom had reached the distraught girl and was struggling with her over on the far side of the disk. There came a throbbing of the very air surrounding them, and Bert saw Tom and Joan on the other side of the force area, their white faces indistinct and wavering as if blurred by heat waves rising between them. The rumblings and crackings overhead increased in intensity until the old house swayed and creaked with the concussions. Hazy forms materialized on the lighted disc, the cage of the transparent woven basket. Dark, spidery forms within the creatures from that other plane. Joan. Tom. Bert's voice was soundless as he tried to shout, and his muscles were paralyzed when he attempted to hurl himself across to them. The blue light had spread and formed a huge bubble of white brilliance, a transparent elastic solid that flung him back when he attacked it in vain with his fist. Within its confines he saw Joan and her brother scuffling with the spider men, tearing at the tentacle arms that encircled them and drew them relentlessly into the basket weave cage. There was a tremendous thump and the warping of the very universe about them all. Bert Redmond, his body racked by insupportable tortures, was hurled into the black abyss of infinity. This was not death, nor was it a dream from which he would awaken. After that moment of mental agony and ghastly physical pain, after a dizzying rush through inky nothingness, Bert knew suddenly that he was very much alive. If he had lost consciousness at all, it had been for no great length of time. And yet there was this sense of strangeness in his surroundings, a feeling that he had been transported over some nameless gulf of space. He had dropped to his knees, but with the swift return of normal faculties he jumped to his feet. A tall stranger confronted him, a half nude giant with bronzed skin and of solemn visage. The stalwart build of him and the smooth contours of cheek and jaw proclaimed him a man not yet past middle age. But his uncropped hair was white as the driven snow. They stood in a spherical chamber of silvery metal, Bert and this giant, and the gentle vibration of delicately balanced machinery made itself felt in the structure of Joan and Tom. There was no sign. Where am I? Bert demanded. And where are my friends? Why am I with you, without them? Compassion was in the tall stranger's gaze, and something more. The pain of a great sorrow filled the brown eyes that looked down at Bert, and resignation to a fate that was shrouded in ineffable mystery. Trust me, he said in a mellow, slurring voice. Where you are, you shall soon learn. You are safe, and your friends will be located. Will be located? Don't you know where they are? Bert laid hands on the big man's wrists and shook him impatiently. The stranger was too calm and unmoved in the face of this tremendous thing which had come to pass. I know where they have been taken. Yes, but there is no need of haste out here in infra dimensional space, for time stands still. We will find it a simple matter to reach the plane of their captors, the Bardocks, within a few seconds after your friends arrive there. My plane segregator, this sphere will accomplish this in due season. Strangely, Bert believed him. This talk of dimensions and planes and of the halting of time was incomprehensible. But somehow there was communicated to his own restless nature something of the placid serenity of the white haired stranger. He regarded the man more closely, saw there was an alien look about him that marked him as different and apart from the men of Earth.
- [344:17]
A
Earth.
- [344:17]
B
His sole garment was a wide breeched cloud of silvery stuff that glinted with changing colours, hues foreign to nature. On Earth he was a superhuman perfection of muscular development. And there was an indescribable mingling of gentleness and sternness in his demeanour. With a start, Bert noted that his fingers were webbed, as were his toes. Say, Bert, expectations exclaimed. Who are you anyway? The stranger permitted himself the merest ghost of a smile. You may call me Wanderer, he said. I am the Wanderer of Infinity. Infinity? You are not of my world. But no, you speak my language. It is one of many with which I am familiar. I don't understand. Bert Redmond was like a man in a trance, completely under the spell of his amazing host's personality. It is given to few men to understand. The Wanderer fell silent, his arms folded across his broad chest and his great shoulders bowed as under the weight of centuries of mankind's cares. Yet I would have you understand, O Man called Bird, for the tale is a strange one and is heavy upon me. It was uncanny that this Wanderer should address him by name. Bert thrilled to a new sense of awe, but he objected. My friends are in the hands of the Spider Men. You said we'd go to them. Good Lord, man, I've got to do it. You forget that time means nothing here. We will go to them in precise synchronism with the proper time as existent in that plane. The Wanderer's intense gaze held Bert speechless, hypnotized. A swift dimming of the sphere's diffused illumination came immediately and the darkness swept down like a blanket, thick and stifling. This was no ordinary darkness, but the utter absence of light, the total obscurity of Erebus and the hidden motors throbbed with sudden new vigour. Behold. At the Wanderer's exclamation, the enclosing sphere became transparent, and they were in the midst of a dizzying maelstrom of flashing color. Brilliant geometric shapes there were, whirling off into the vastness of space as Bert had seen them in Tom Parker's instrument, a gigantic arc of rushing light forms spanning the black gulf of an unknown cosmos. And in the foreground, directly under the sphere, was a blue white disc, horizontally fixed, a substantial and familiar object with hazy surroundings. Likewise familiar. Isn't that the metal platform in my friend's laboratory? Asked Bert, marvelling. It is indeed. The mellow voice of the Wanderer was grave, and he laid a hand on Bert's arm. And for so long as it exists, it constitutes a serious menace to your civilization. It is a gateway to your world, a means of contact with your plane of existence for those many vicious hordes that dwell in other planes of the fifth dimension. Without it, the Bardocks had not been able to enter and effect the kidnapping of your friends. Oh, I tried so hard to warn them, Parker and the girl, but could not do it. In time, a measure of understanding came to Burt Redmond. This was the thing Joan had feared and which Tom Parker had neglected to consider. The forces which enabled the scientist to see into the mysterious planes of this uncharted realm were likewise capable of providing physical contact between the planes or actual travel from one to the other. Tom had not learned how to use the forces in this manner, but the Bardocks had. We travel now along a different set of coordinates, those of space time, said the Wanderer. We go into the past through aeons of time, as it is counted in your world. Into the past, Bert repeated. He stared foolishly at his host, whose eyes glittered strangely in the flickering light. Yes. We go to my home. To what was my home? To your home. Why? Bert shrank before the awful, contorted face of the Wanderer. A spasm of ferocity had crossed it on his last words. Some fearful secret must be gnawing at the big man's vitals again. You must trust me to understand. It is necessary that you see. The gentle whirr of machinery rose to a piercing shriek as the Wanderer manipulated the tiny levers of a control board that was set in the smooth, transparent wall. And the rushing light forms outside became a blur at first, then a solid stream of cold, liquid fire into which they plunged at breakneck speed. There was no perceptible motion of the sphere, however. It was the only object that seemed substantial and fixed in an intangible and madly gyrating universe. Its curved wall, though transparent, was solid, comforting to the touch. Standing by his instrument board, the Wanderer was engrossed in a tabulation of mathematical data he was apparently using in setting the many control knobs before him, plodding their course through infinity. His placid serenity of countenance had returned, but there was a new eagerness in his intense gaze, and his strong fingers trembled while he manipulated the tiny levers and dull isles. Outside the apparently motionless sphere, a never ending riot of color surged swiftly and silently by, now swirling violently in great sweeping arcs of blinding magnificence, now changing character and driving down from dizzying heights as a dim lit column of gray that might have been a blast of steam from some huge inverted geyser of the cosmos. Always there were the intermittent black bands that flashed swiftly across the brightness, momentarily darkening the sphere and then passing on into the limbo of this strange realm between planes. Abruptly, then, like the turning of a page in some gigantic book, the swift moving phantasmagoria swung back into the blackness of the infinite and was gone. Before them stretched a landscape of rolling hills and fertile valleys. Overhead the skies were a deep blue, almost violet, and twin suns shone down on the scene. The sphere drifted along a few hundred feet from the surface. Eutraria. The Wanderer breathed reverently. His white head was bowed and his great hands clutched the small rail of the control board. In a daze of conflicting emotions, Bert watched as this land of peace and plenty slipped past beneath them. This, he knew, had been the home of the Wanderer. In what past, age? Or how at a great distance it was from his own world, he could only imagine. But that the big man who called himself Wanderer loved this country, there was not the slightest doubt. It was a fetish with him, a past he was in duty bound to revisit time and again and to mourn. Over smooth broad lakes there were, and glistening streams that ran their winding courses through well kept and productive farmlands and scattered communities with orderly streets and spacious parks, roads stretching endless ribbons of wide metallic surface across the countryside. Long two wheeled vehicles skimming over the roads with speeds so great the eye could scarcely follow them. Flapping winged ships of the air flying high and low in all directions. A great city of magnificent dome topped buildings looming up suddenly at the horizon. The sphere proceeded swiftly toward the city. Once a great airliner, flapping huge gossamer like wings, dove directly toward them. Bert cried out in alarm and ducked instinctively, but the ship passed through them and on its way. It was as if they did not exist in this spherical vehicle of the dimensions. Section 18 of 4 Science fiction novellas this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent, Wanderer of Infinity we are here only as onlookers, the Wanderer explains sadly, and can have no material existence here. We cannot enter this plane, for there is no gateway. Would that there were. Now they were over the city and the sphere came to rest above a spacious flat roof where there were luxurious gardens and pools and a small glass domed observatory. A woman was seated by one of the pools, a beautiful woman with long golden hair that fell in soft profusion over her ivory shoulders and bosom. Two children, handsome and stalwart boys, were probably 10 and 12, romped with a domestic animal which resembled a foxhound of Earth, but had glossy short haired fur and flippers like these of a seal. Suddenly these three took to the water and splashed. With much vigour and joyful shouting, the Wanderer gripped Bert's arm with painful force. My home. He groaned. Understand, Earthling. This was my home. These my wife and children destroyed through my folly. Destroyed, I say, in ancient days, and by my accursed hand when the metal monsters came. There was madness in the Wanderer's glassy stare, the madness of a tortured soul within. Bert began to fear him. We should leave, he said. Why torment yourself with such memories, my friends? Have patience, Earthling. Don't you understand that I sinned and am therefore condemned to this torment? Can't you see that I must unburden my soul of this age's old load? That I must revisit the scene of my crime, that others must see and know. It is part of my punishment, and you perforce must bear witness. Moreover, it is to help your friends and your world that I bring you here. Behold, a man was coming out of the observatory, a tall man with bronzed skin and raven locks. It was the Wanderer himself, the Wanderer of the past, as he had been in the days of his youth and happiness. The woman by the pool had risen from her seat and was advancing eagerly toward her mate. Bert saw that the man hardly glanced in her direction, so intent was he on an object over which he stood. The object was a shimmering bowl some 8 or 10ft across, which was mounted on a tripod near the observatory, and over whose metallic surface a queer bluish light was Playing. It was a wordless pantomime, the ensuing scene, and Bert watched in amazement. This woman of another race, another age, another plane was pleading with her man, sobbing soundlessly, wretchedly. And the man was unheeding, impatient with her demonstrations. He shoved her aside as she attempted to interfere with his manipulations of some elaborate mechanical contrivance at the sight of the bowl. And then there was a sudden roaring vibration, a flash of light leaping from the bowl and the materialization of a spherical vessel that swallowed at the man and vanished in the shaft of light like a moth in the flame of a candle at Bert's side. The Wanderer was a grim and silent figure, misty and unreal when compared with those material emotion torn beings on the rooftop. The woman swooning had wilted over the rim of the bowl, and the two boys with their strange amphibious pet splashed out from the pool and came running to her side, wide eyed and dripping. The Wanderer touched a lever, and again there was the sensation as of a great page turned across the vastness of the universe. All was hazy and indistinct outside the sphere that held them with a rushing blur of dimly grey like forms. Beneath them remained only the bright outline of the bowl, an object distinct and real and fixed in space. It was thus I left my loved ones, the Wanderer said hollowly, in fanatical devotion to my science, but in blind disregard to those things which really mattered. Observe, O man called Bert, that the bowl is still existent in the infra dimensional space, the gateway I left open to Eutraria. So it remained while I, fool that I was, explored. Those planes of the fifth dimension that were all around us, though we saw and felt them not only I had seen, even as your friend Tom has seen, and like him, I heeded not the menace of the things I had witnessed. We go now to the plane of the metal monsters. Behold. The sphere shuddered to the increased power of its hidden motors, and another huge page seemed to turn slowly over, lurching sickeningly as it came to rest in the new and material plane of existence. Here, Bert understood now the structure of matter was entirely different. Atoms were comprised of protons and electrons, whirling at different velocities and in different orbits, possibly some of the electrons in reverse direction to those of the atomic structure of matter in Etraria. And these co existed with those others in the same relative position in time and in space ages before the thing had happened, and he was seeing it now. They were in the midst of a forest of conical spires whose sides were of dark glittering stuff that reminded Bert of the crystals of Carborundum before pulverizing for commercial use. A myriad of deep colors were reflected from the sharply pointed piles in the light of a great cold moon that hung low in the heavens above them. In the half light down there, between the circular bases of the cones, weird creatures were moving like great earthworms. They moved sluggish and with writhing contortions of their many jointed bodies. Long cylindrical things with glistening grey hide like armour plate, and with fearsome heads that reared upward occasionally to reveal the single flaming eye and massive iron jaws each contained. There were riveted joints and levers, wheels and gears that moved as the creatures moved. Darting lights that flashed forth from trunnion mounted cases like the searchlights of a battleship of earth. Great swivelled arms with grappling hooks attached. They were mechanical contrivances, the metal monsters of which the Wanderer had spoken. Whether their brains were comprised of active living cells, or whether they were cold calculating machines of metallic parts, Bert was never to know. See the gateway, the Wanderer was saying. They are investigating. It is the beginning of the end of Ytoria. All as it occurred in the dim and distant past. He gripped Bert's arm, pointing a trembling finger, and his face was a terrible thing to see. In the eerie light of their sphere, a sharply outlined circle of blue white appeared down there in the midst of the squirming monsters. The sphere drifted lower and Bert was able to see that a complicated machine was being trundled out from an arched doorway in the base of one of the conical dwellings. It was moved to the edge of the light circle which was the bowl on that rooftop of Eutraria. The same bowl, a force area like that used by Tom Parker, an area existent in many planes of the fifth dimension simultaneously. An area where the various components of wave motion merged and became as one, the gateway between planes. The machine of the metal monsters was provided with a huge lens and a reflector, and these were trained on the bowl. Wheels and levers of the machine moved to swiftly. There came an orange light from within that was focussed upon lens and reflector to strike down and mingle with the cold light of the bowl. A startling transformation ensued, for the entire area within view was encompassed with a milky diffused brightness in which two worlds seemed to intermingle and fuse. There were the roof tops of the city in Eutraria and its magnificent dome, a transparent yet substantial reality superimposed upon the gloomy city of cones of the metal monsters. Jupiter, Bert breathed. They're going through. They are Earthling. More accurately, they did. Thousands of them. Millions. What's up everybody?
- [362:15]
A
It's Bretzky.
- [362:16]
B
And America is turning 250 and I
- [362:19]
A
can't think of a better way to
- [362:20]
B
sell it celebrate that than playing on
- [362:22]
A
an American owned social casino.
- [362:24]
B
Spinquest.com with all of your favorite games, live craps, bubble craps, live blackjack. There's no better place to play for
- [362:33]
A
free and win real cash prizes. Spinquest.com Spin Quest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.
- [362:45]
B
Even as the Wanderer spoke smoke, the metal monsters were wriggling through between the two planes, their enormous bodies moving with menacing deliberation. On the rooftop's back in Etraria could be seen the frantic fleeing forms of human like beings, the Wanderer's people. There was a sharp click from the control panel and the scene was blotted out by the familiar maze of geometric shapes, the whirling dancing light forms that rushed madly passed over the vast arch which spanned infinity. Where were you at the time? Asked Bert, awed by what he had seen, and with pity in his heart for the man who had unwittingly let loose the horde of metal monsters on his own loved ones and his own land. He stared at the Wanderer. The big man was standing with face averted, hands clutching the rail of the control panel desperately. I, he whispered. I was roaming the plains, exploring, experimenting, immersed in the pursuits that went with my insatiable thirst for scientific data and the broadening of my knowledge of this complex universe of ours. Forgetting my responsibilities, unknowing, unsuspecting, you returned to your home too late. I returned. You shall see. We returned now by the same route. I then followed. No. Bert shouted, suddenly panicky at the thought of what might be happening to Joan and Tom in the land of the Bardocks. No, Wanderer. Tell me, but don't show me. I can imagine seen those loathsome big worms of iron and steel. I can well visualize what they did. Come now, have a heart, man. Take me to my friends before. Ah. The Wanderer looked up and a benign look came to take the place of the pain and horror which had contorted his features. It is well, old man, called Bert. I shall do as you request, for now I see that my mission has been well accomplished. We go to your friends and fear you not that we shall arrive too late. Your. Your mission. Bert calmed immediately under the spell of the Wanderer's new mood. My mission throughout eternity, Earthling. Can't you sense it? Forever and ever I shall roam infra dimensional space, watching and waiting for evidence that a similar catastrophe might be visited on another land. Where warm blooded, thinking humans of similar mould to my own may be living out their short lives of happiness or near happiness. Never again shall so great a calamity come to mankind anywhere. If it be within the Wanderer's power to prevent it it. And that is why I snatched you up from your friend's laboratory. That is why I have shown to you the me. Why me? Bert exclaimed. Attend, O Earthling, and you shall hear. The mysterious intangibilities of the cosmos whirled by, unheeded by either, as the Wanderer's tale unfolded. When I returned, he said, the gateway was closed forever. I could not enter my own plane of existence. The metal monsters had taken possession. They had found a better and richer land than their own. And when they had completed their migration, they destroyed the generator of my force area. They had shut me out. But I could visit Yurtaria as an outsider, as a wraith. And I saw what they had done. I saw the desolation and the blackness of my once fair land. I saw that. That none of my own kind remained. All. All were gone. For a time my reason deserted me and I roamed infra dimensional space as a madman. Self condemned to the outer realms where there is no real material existence, no human companionship, no love, no comfort. When reason returned, I set myself to the task of visiting other planes where beings of my own kind might be found. And I soon learned that it was impossible to do this in the body. To these people I was a ghostly visitant, if they sensed my presence at all. For my roaming between planes had altered the characteristics of the atomic structure of my being. I could no longer adapt myself to material existence. In these planes of the fifth dimension. The orbits of electrons in the atoms comprising my substance had become fixed. Fixed in a new and outcast oscillation interval. I had remained away too long. I was an outcast. A wanderer. The Wanderer of infinity. There was silence in the sphere for a space, save only for the gentle whirring of the motors. Then the Wanderer. Nevertheless, I roamed these plains as a non existent visitor in so far as their peoples were concerned. I learned their languages and came to think of them as my own. And I found that many of their scientific workers were experimenting along lines similar to those which had brought disaster to Yutaria. I swore a mighty oath to spend my lifetime in Warning them. In warding off a repetition of so terrible a mistake as I had made on several occasions, I have succeeded. And then I found that my lifetime was to be for all eternity. In the outer Realms, time stands still, as I have told you. And in the plane of existence which now is mine, an extra material plane, I had no prospect of aging or of death. My vow, therefore, is for so long as our universe may endure, instead of for merely a lifetime. For this I am duly thankful for I shall miss nothing until the end of time. I visited plains where other monsters, as clever and as vicious as the metal ones who devastated Eutaria, were bending every effort of their sciences towards obtaining actual contact with other planes of the fifth dimension. And I learned that such contact was utterly impossible of attainment without a gateway in the realm to which they wished to pass. A gateway such as I had provided for the metal monsters, and such as that which your friend Tom Parker has provided for the Bardecsor Spider Men, as you term them, in intra dimensional space. I saw the glow of Tom Parker's force area and made my way to your world quickly. But Tom could not get my warning. He was too stubbornly and deeply engrossed in the work he was engaged in. The girl, Joan, was slightly more susceptible. And I believe she was beginning to sense my telepathic messages when she sent for you. Still and all, I had begun to give up hope when you came on the scene. I took you away just as the Spider Men succeeded in capturing your friends. And now my hope has revived. I feel sure that my warning shall not have been in vain. But, objected Bert, you've warned me, not the scientist of my world, who is able to prevent the thing. Yes, you. The wanderer broke in. It is better so. This Tom Parker is a zealot, even as was I. A man of science, thinking only of his own discoveries. I am not sure he would discontinue his experiments, even were he to receive my warning in all its horrible details. But you, O man called Bert, through your love of his sister, and by your influence over him, will be able to do what I cannot do myself. Bring about the destruction of this apparatus of his. Impress upon him the grave necessity of discontinuing his investigations. You can do it. And you alone. Now that you fully understand. Say you are putting it up to me entirely. Nearly so. And there is no alternative. I believe I have not misjudged you. You will not fail. Of that I am certain. For the sake of your own kind, for the love of Joan Parker, you will not fail. And for me, for this small measure of atonement, it is permitted that I make or help to make possible. No, I'll not fail. Take me to them. Quick. Bert grinned understandingly as the Wanderer straightened his broad shoulders and extended his hand. There was no lack of substantiality in the mighty grip of those closing fingers. Again the sphere's invisible motors increased speed, and again the dizzying kaleidoscope of colour swept past them more furiously. We will now overtake them, your friends, said the Wanderer in the very act of passing between planes. Overtake them? Bert mumbled. I don't get it at all. This time traveling, it is over my head a mile. It isn't time travel, really, explained the Wanderer. We are merely closing up the time space interval, moving to the precise spot in the universe where your friend's laboratory existed at the moment of contact between planes with your world and that of the Bardix. We shall reach there a few seconds after the actual capture. No chance of missing. Bert watched the Wanderer as he consulted his mathematical data and made new adjustments of the controls. Not the slightest. It is calculated to a nicety. We could, if we wished, stop just short of the exact time and would see the recurrence of their capture, but only as unseen observers. You cannot enter the plane as a material being during your own actual past, for your entity would then be duplicated. Of course I cannot enter in any case. But moving on to the instant after the event, as we shall do, you may enter either plane as a material being or move between the two planes at will by means of the gateway provided by Tom Parker's force area. Do you not now understand the manner in which you will be enabled to carry out the required procedure? Hm. Bert wasn't sure at all. But this moving through time? He asked helplessly. And the change from one plane of oscillation to another. They're all mixed up. What have they to do with each other? All five dimensions of our universe are definitely interrelated and dependent one upon the other for the existence of matter in any form whatsoever, you see. But here we are. The motor slowed down and a titanic page seemed to turn over in the cosmos with a vanishing blaze of magnificence. Directly beneath them glowed the disk of blue white light that was Tom's force area. The sphere swooped down within its influence and came to rest. Make haste, the Wanderer said. I shall be here in the gateway, though you see me not. Bring them here speedily. On the one side, Bert saw familiar objects in Tom's laboratory On the other side the white cliff and the pitchy sea of the Bardock realm and the cage of the basketweave between, with his friends inside struggling with the spider men. It was the instant after the capture. Joan. Tom. Bert shouted. A side of the sphere had opened and he plunged through and into the Bardack plain to the inky surface of the sea, fully expecting to sink in its forbidding depths. But the stuff was an elastic solid, springy under his feet and bearing him up as would an air inflated cushion. He threw himself upon the cage and tore at it with his fingers. The whimpering screams of the spider men were in his ears and he saw from the corner of his eye that other of the tortoise like mounds were rising up out of the viscid black depths, dozens of them, and that hundreds of the bar decks were closing in on him from all directions. Weapons were in their hands and a huge engine of warfare like caterpillar tractor was skimming over the sea from the cliff wall with a great grinding and clanking of its mechanism limbs. But the cage was pulling apart in his clutches as if made of reeds. With Joan in one encircling arm, he was battling the spider men, driving swift short jabs into their soft bloated bodies with devastating effect. And Tom, recovering from the first surprise of his capture, was doing a good job himself, his flailing arms scattering the bar decks like ninepins. The Wanderer and his sphere, both doomed to material existence only in infra dimensional space, had vanished from sight. A bedlam rose up from the reinforcing hordes as they came in to enter the force area. But Bert sensed the guiding touch of the Wanderer's unseen hand, heard his placid voice urging him, and in a single leap was inside the sphere with the girl. With Joan safely in the Wanderer's care, he rushed out again for Tom. Then followed a nightmare of battling those twining tentacles and the puffy crowding bodies of the spider men. Wrestling tactics and swinging fists were all that the two earthlings had to rely upon, but between them they managed to fight off a half score of the bar decks and work their way back into the glowing force area. It's no use. Tom gasped. We can't get back. Sure we can. We've a friend here in the force area. Tom Parker staggered. His strength was giving out. No, no, Bert. He moaned. I can't. You go on. Leave me here. Not on your life. Bert swung him up bodily into the sphere as he contacted with the invisible metal of its hull, kicking off the nearest of the spider men, he clambered in after the scientist. The tableau then presented in the sphere's interior was to remain forever imprinted on Bert's memory, though it was only a momentary flash in his consciousness at the time. The Wanderer, calm and erect at the control panel, his benign countenance alight with satisfaction. Tom Parker, pulling himself to his feet, clutching at the big man's free arm. His mouth opened in astonishment. Jones, seated at the Wanderer's feet with awed and reverent eyes upturned. There is no passing directly between the planes. One must have the force area as a gateway and besides a medium such as the cage of the Bardocks, the orange light of the metal monsters, or sphere of the Wanderer. Bert knew this instinctively as the sphere darkened and the flashing light forms leaped across the blackness. The motors screamed in rising crescendo as their speed increased. Then abruptly, the sound broke off into deathly silence as the limit of audibility was passed against the brilliant background of swift color changes and geometric light, shapes that so quickly merged into the familiar blur. Bert saw his companions as dim wraith like forms. He moved toward Joan, groping. Then came the tremendous thump. The swinging of a colossal page across the void, the warping of the very universe about them, the physical torture and the swift rush through Stygian inkiness. Farewell. A single word, whispered like a benediction in the Wanderer's mellow voice, was in Bert's consciousness. He knew that their benefactor had slipped away into the mysterious regions of intra dimensional space. Raising himself slowly and dazedly from where he had been flung, he saw they were in Tom's laboratory. Joan lay over there, white and still, a pitiful crumpled heap. Panicky, Bert crossed to her. His trembling fingers found her pulse. A sobbing breath of relief escaped his lips. She had merely swooned. Tom Parker, exhausted from his efforts in that other plane and with the very foundations of his being wretched by this passage through the fifth dimension, was unable to rise. Only semi conscious, his eyes were glazed with pain and incoherent moaning sounds came from his white lips when he attempted to speak. Bert's mind was clearing rapidly. That diabolical machine of Tom's was still operating, the drone of its motors being the only sound in the laboratory as the inventor closed his mouth grimly and made a desperate effort to raise his head. But Bert had seen shapes materializing on the lighted disk that was a gateway between planes, and he rushed to the controls of the instrument. That starting lever must be shifted without delay. Don't Tom Parker found his voice. His frantic warning was a hoarse, whistling gasp. He had struggled to his knees. It will kill you, Bert. Those things in the force area, partly through the reaction, will destroy the machine and all of us if you turn it off. Don't I say what then? Bert fell back, appalled. Hazily, the steel prow of a war machine was forming itself on the metal disk. Caterpillar treads moved like ghostly shadows. Beneath it was the vanguard of the Bardek hordes. Can't do it that way. Tom had gotten to his feet and was stumbling toward the force area only one way during the change of the oscillation periods. Must mingle other atoms with those before they stabilize in our plane. Must localize, annihilating force. Must. What was the fool doing? He'd be in the forest area in another moment. Bert, thrust forward to intercept him, saw that Joan had regained consciousness and was sitting erect, swaying weakly. Her eyes widened with horror as they took in the scene, and she screamed once despairingly, and was on her feet, tottering back. Tom Parker yelled, wheeling. Save yourselves. Bert lunged toward him, but was too late. Tom had already burst into the force area and cast himself upon the semi transparent tank of the spider men. A blast of searing heat radiated from the disk, and the motors of Tom's machine groaned as they slowed down under tremendous overload. Joan cried out in awful despair and moved to follow, but her knees gave way beneath her. Moaning and shuddering, she slumped into Bert's arms and he drew her back from the awful heat of the force area. Then, horrified, they watched as Tom Parker melted into the misty shape of the bar deck war machine. Swiftly his body merged with the half substance of the tank and became an integral part of the mass. For a horrible instant Tom too was transparent, a ghost shape, writhing in a ghostly throbbing mechanism of another world. His own atomic structure mingled with that of the alien thing, and yet for a moment he retained his earthly form. His lean face was peaceful in death, satisfied like the wanderers when they had seen him last. A terrific thunderclap rent the air and a column of flame roared up from the force area. Tom's apparatus glowed to instant white heat, then melded down into sizzling liquid metal and glass. The laboratory was in sudden twilight gloom, save for a tongue of fire that licked up from the force area to the panel ceiling. On the metal disk, now glowing redly, was no visible thing. The gateway was closed forever. What more fearful calamity might have befallen had the machine been switched off instead? Bert was never to know. Nor did he know how he reached his park flivver with Jonah limp, sobbing bundle in his arms. He only knew that Tom Parker's sacrifice had saved them, had undoubtedly prevented a horrible invasion of Earth, and that the efforts of the wanderer had not been in vain. The old house was burning furiously when he climbed in under the wheel of his car car. He held Joan very close and watched that blazing funeral pyre in wordless sorrow as the bereaved girl dropped her head to his shoulder. A group of men came up the winding road, a straggling group running the loungers from the village. In the forefront was the beardless youth who had directed Bert, and bringing up the rear, limping and scurrying, was the old man they had called Gramp. He was puffing prodigiously when the others gathered around the car demanding information, and the old fellow with the thick spectacles talked them all down. What'd I tell you? He screeched. Didn't I say they was queer doin's up here? Didn't I say the devil was here with his imps and the thunder? You're a passel, idjits, like I said. The roar of Bert's starting motor drowned out the rest, but the old fellow was still gesticulating and dancing about when they clattered off down the winding road to Lenville. An hour later. Joan had fallen asleep, exhausted. Night had fallen, and as mile after mile of smooth concrete unrolled beneath the flivver's wheels, Bert gave himself over to thoughts he had not dared to entertain in nearly two years. They'd be happy, he and Joan, and there'd be no further argument if she still objected to living on the fruit farm. That could be easily managed. They'd live in Indianapolis and he'd buy a new car, a good one to run back and forth if, when her grief for Tom had lessened, she wanted to go on with laboratory work and such. Well, that was easy too. Only there would be no fooling around with this dimensional stuff. She had enough of that, he knew. He drew her close with his free arm and his thoughts shifted, moved far out in infra dimensional space to dwell upon the man of the past who had called himself Wanderer of Infinity, he who would go on and on until the end of time, until the end of all things, watching over the many worlds and planes, warning peoples of human like mould and emotions wherever they might dwell, helping them, atoning throughout infinity, suffering. End of Section 18 end of 4 Science fiction novellas by Harold Vincent. Hey everybody.
- [386:32]
A
Lady Luck here and we're celebrating America's 250th birthday. Now all summer long I'm gonna put be celebrating by playing on spinquest.com which is an American owned social casino. It obviously features over a thousand slot games and live blackjack, live craps, live bubble craps. Head on over to spinquest.com get yourself a 30 coin pack for just 10 bucks. Spin Quest is a free to play social casino void where prohibited. Visit spinquest.com for more details.