Part 20 (2/2)
Thus, then, for the first time in Triplanetary's history, the forces of law and order joined hands with those of piracy and banditry against a common foe. Rods, beams, planes, and stilettos of unbearable energy the doomed fleet launched, in addition to its terrifically destructive main beam: Roger hurled every material weapon at his command. But bombs, high-explosive sh.e.l.ls, even the ultra-deadly atomic torpedoes, alike were ineffective; alike simply vanished in the redly murky veil of nothingness. And the fleet was being melted. In quick succession the vessels flamed red, shrank together, gave out their air, and merged their component iron into the intensely crimson, sullenly viscous stream which was flowing through the impenetrable veil against which both Triplanetarians and pirates were directing their terrific offense.
The last vessel of the attacking cone having been converted and the resulting metal stored away, the Nevians-as Roger had antic.i.p.ated-turned their attention toward the planetoid. But that structure was no feeble wars.h.i.+p. It had been designed by, and built under the personal supervision of, Gharlane of Eddore. It was powered, equipped, and armed to meet any emergency which Gharlane's tremendous mind had been able to envision. Its entire bulk was protected by the s.h.i.+eld whose qualities had so surprised Costigan; a s.h.i.+eld far more effective than any Tellurian scientist or engineer would have believed possible.
The voracious converting beam of the Nevians, below the level of the ether though it was, struck that s.h.i.+eld and rebounded; defeated and futile. Struck again, again rebounded; then struck and clung hungrily, licking out over that impermeable surface in darting tongues of flame as the surprised Nerado doubled and then quadrupled his power. Fiercer and fiercer the Nevian flood of force drove in. The whole immense globe of the planetoid became one scintillant ball of raw, red energy; but still the pirates' s.h.i.+eld remained intact.
Gray Roger sat coldly motionless at his great desk, the top of which was now swung up to become a panel of ma.s.sed and tiered instruments and controls. He could carry this load forever-but unless he was very wrong, this load would change shortly. What then? The essence that was Gharlane could not be killed-could not even be hurt-by any physical, chemical, or nuclear force. Should he stay with the planetoid to its end, and thus perforce return to Eddore with no material evidence whatever? He would not. Too much remained undone. Any report based upon his present information could be neither complete nor conclusive, and reports submitted by Gharlane of Eddore to the coldly cynical and ruthlessly a.n.a.lytical innermost Circle had always been and always would be both.
It was a fact that there existed at least one non-Eddorian mind which was the equal of his own. If one, there would be a race of such minds. The thought was galling; but to deny the existence of a fact would be the essence of stupidity. Since power of mind was a function of time, that race must be of approximately the same age as his own. Therefore the Eddorian Information Center, which by the inference of its completeness denied the existence of such a race, was wrong. It was not complete.
Why was it not complete? The only possible reason for two such races remaining unaware of the existence of each other would be the deliberate intent of one of them. Therefore, at some time in the past, the two races had been in contact for at least an instant of time. All Eddorian knowledge of that meeting had been suppressed and no more contacts had been allowed to occur.
The conclusion reached by Gharlane was a disturbing thing indeed; but, being an Eddorian, he faced it squarely. He did not have to wonder how such a suppression could have been accomplished-he knew. He also knew that his own mind contained everything known to his every ancestor since the first Eddorian was: the probability was exceedingly great that if any such contact had ever been made his mind would still contain at least some information concerning it, however carefully suppressed that knowledge had been.
He thought. Back ... back ... farther back ... farther still....
And as he thought, an interfering force began to pluck at him; as though palpable tongs were pulling out of line the mental probe with which he was exploring the hitherto unplumbed recesses of his mind.
”Ah ... so you do not want me to remember?” Roger asked aloud, with no change in any lineament of his hard, gray face. ”I wonder ... do you really believe that you can keep me from remembering? I must abandon this search for the moment, but rest a.s.sured that I shall finish it very shortly.”
”Here is the a.n.a.lysis of his screen, sir.” A Nevian computer handed his chief a sheet of metal, bearing rows of symbols.
”Ah, a polycyclic ... complete coverage ... a screen of that type was scarcely to have been expected from such a low form of life,” Nerado commented, and began to adjust dials and controls.
As he did so the character of the clinging mantle of force changed. From red it flamed quickly through the spectrum, became unbearably violet, then disappeared; and as it disappeared the s.h.i.+elding wall began to give way. It did not cave in abruptly, but softened locally, sagging into a peculiar grouping of valleys and ridges-contesting stubbornly every inch of position lost.
Roger experimented briefly with inertialessness. No use. As he had expected, they were prepared for that. He summoned a few of the ablest of his scientist-slaves and issued instructions. For minutes a host of robots toiled mightily, then a portion of the s.h.i.+eld bulged out and became a tube extending beyond the attacking layers of force; a tube from which there erupted a beam of violence incredible. A beam behind which was every erg of energy that the gigantic mechanisms of the planetoid could yield. A beam that tore a hole through the redly impenetrable Nevian field and hurled itself upon the inner screen of the fish-shaped cruiser in frenzied incandescence. And was there, or was there not, a lesser eruption upon the other side-an almost imperceptible flash, as though something had shot from the doomed planetoid out into s.p.a.ce?
Nerado's neck writhed convulsively as his tortured drivers whined and shrieked at the terrific overload; but Roger's effort was far too intense to be long maintained. Generator after generator burned out, the defensive screen collapsed, and the red converter beam attacked voraciously the unresisting metal of those prodigious walls. Soon there was a terrific explosion as the pent-up air of the planetoid broke through its weakening container, and the sluggish river of allotropic iron flowed in an ever larger stream, ever faster.
”It is well that we had an unlimited supply of iron.” Nerado almost tied a knot in his neck as he spoke in huge relief. ”With but the seven pounds remaining of our original supply, I fear that it would have been difficult to parry that last thrust.”
”Difficult?” asked the second in command. ”We would now be free atoms in s.p.a.ce. But what shall I do with this iron? Our reservoirs will not hold more than half of it. And how about that one s.h.i.+p which remains untouched?”
”Jettison enough supplies from the lower holds to make room for this lot. As for that one s.h.i.+p, let it go. We will be overloaded as it is, and it is of the utmost importance that we get back to Nevia as soon as possible.”
This, if Gharlane could have heard it, would have answered his question. All Arisia knew that it was necessary for the camera-s.h.i.+p to survive. The Nevians were interested only in iron; but the Eddorian, being a perfectionist, would not have been satisfied with anything less than the complete destruction of every vessel of Triplanetary's fleet.
The Nevian s.p.a.ce-s.h.i.+p moved away, sluggishly now because of its prodigious load. In their quarters in the fourth section the three Terrestrials, who had watched with strained attention the downfall and absorption of the planetoid, stared at each other with drawn faces. Clio broke the silence.
”Oh, Conway, this is ghastly! It's ... it's just simply too d.a.m.ned perfectly horrible!” she gasped, then recovered a measure of her customary spirit as she stared in surprise at Costigan's face. For it was thoughtful, his eyes were bright and keen-no trace of fear or disorganization was visible in any line of his hard young face.
”It's not so good,” he admitted frankly. ”I wish I wasn't such a dumb cluck-if Lyman Cleveland or Fred Rodebush were here they could help a lot, but I don't know enough about any of their stuff to flag a hand-car. I can't even interpret that funny flash-if it really was a flash-that we saw.”
”Why bother about one little flash, after all that really did happen?” asked Clio, curiously.
”You think Roger launched something? He couldn't have-I didn't see a thing,” Bradley argued.
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