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Spacehounds of IPC

<h2> CHAPTER X </h2> <h3> Among Friends at Last </h3> The time for the landing of the Sirius was drawing near, and the castaways upon Ganymede had donned their only suits of earthly clothing, instead of the makeshifts of mole-skin, canvas, and leather they had been wearing so long. Thorns and underbrush had pierced and torn their once natty outing costumes, and sparks and flying drops of molten metal from Stevens' first crude forges had burned in them many gaping holes. "I did the best I could with them, Steve, but they look pretty crumby," Nadia wrinkled her nose as she studied the anything but invisible seams, darns, and staring patches everywhere so evident, both in her own apparel of gray silk and in the heavy whipcord clothing of her companion. "You did a great job, considering what you had to work with," he reassured her. "Besides, who cares about a few patches? I feel a lot more civilized in my own clothes, don't you?" "Well ... yes," she admitted. "They're silk, anyway, even if they don't look like much, and I'm just reveling in the feel of them next to me after the horrible, rough, scratchy things I've been wearing. See anything yet?" "Not yet." Stevens had been scanning the heavens with a pair of binoculars. "That doesn't mean much, though, as they'll be just about in the sun and they'll be coming like a scared dog. Might as well put away these glasses—we probably won't be able to see them until they're right on top of us." "What shall we take with us?" "Don't know—nothing, probably, since they must have a campaign already mapped out. I'd like to salvage a lot of this junk, but I'm afraid we won't be able to. I'm going to take my bow and arrows, though, aren't you?" "Absolutely! That's one thing that's better than anything I ever had on Earth. This bow of mine is perfect." "There they are! Three rousing cheers! Say, but that old hulk looks good to me!" "Doesn't she, though!" cried Nadia, vibrant with excitement. "You know, Steve. I've hardly dared really to believe it until this very minute. Oh look! What's that?" The Sirius had stopped in midair and they could see, far in the distance, the tiny sphere of the Jovians, rushing to the attack. "Oh, how horrible!" cried the girl, her voice breaking. "I'm afraid, Steve...." "You needn't be, ace. I've told you they won't go off half-cocked as long as Westfall is on the job. They're ready for anything, or they wouldn't be here—but just the same I wish that they had that Titanian mirror and a couple of those bombs!" In a moment more the Jovian plane of force was launched, the powerful ray-screens flared into white-hot, sparkling defense, and the battle was on. Held spell-bound as the castaways were by that spectacular duel, yet Stevens' trained mind warned him of the perils of their position. "Grab your bow and we'll beat it!" and he rapidly led her away from the steel structures to an open hillside, well away from any projection, tree, or sharp point of rock. "If that keeps up very long, we're going to see some real fireworks, and I don't know whether there will be enough left of our plant here to salvage or not. Everything is grounded, of course, but I don't believe that ordinary grounds will amount to much against what's coming." "What are you talking about?" demanded Nadia. "Look!" he replied, pointing, and as he spoke, a terrific bolt of lightning launched itself from the incandescent screen of the Jovian vessel upon their slender ultra-radio tower, which subsided instantly into a confused mass of molten and twisted metal. As the power of the beams was increased and as the combatants drew nearer and nearer the ground, the lightning display grew ever more violent. Well below the canyon as the warring vessels were, the power-plant and penstock did not suffer at all and only a few discharges struck the Forlorn Hope—discharges which were carried easily to ground by the enormous thickness of her armor—but every prominent object for hundreds of yards below the Hope was literally blasted out of existence. Radio tower, directors and fittings; trees, shrubs, sharp points of rock—all were struck again and again; fused, destroyed, utterly obliterated by the inconceivable energy being dissipated by those impregnable screens of force. Even almost flat upon the ground as the spectators were, each individual hair upon their heads strove fiercely to stand erect, so heavily charged was the very air. Stevens' arm was blue for days, such was Nadia's grip upon it, and she herself could scarcely breathe in that mighty arm's constriction—but each was conscious only of that incredibly violent struggle, of that duel to the death being waged there before their eyes with those frightful weapons, hitherto unknown to man. They saw the Sirius triumphant, and Stevens led the dancing girl back into their dwelling of steel. "Danger's all over now. Radio's gone, but we should fret a lot about that. It has done its stuff—we can use the communicators. And now, sweetheart, I'm going to kiss you—for the first time in seven lifetimes." Locked in each other's arms, they watched the scene until Stevens thought it time to send his message. Then, running hand in hand toward the huge space-cruiser, they were snatched apart and drawn up toward the double airlocks of the main entrance. Pressure gradually brought up to normal, they were ushered into the control room, where Nadia glanced around quickly and almost took her father off his feet by her tempestuous rush into his arms. "Oh, Daddy darling. I just knew you'd come along! I haven't seen you for a million years!" she exclaimed, rapturously. "And Bill, too—wonderful!" as she fervently embraced a young man wearing the uniform of a lieutenant of Interplanetary Police. "Ouch, Bill—you're breaking all my ribs!" "Well, you cracked three of mine. Maybe you don't know how husky you are, but you've got a squeeze like a full grown boa constrictor!" He held her off at arms' length and studied her with admiration. "Gee, it's fine to see you again, Sis. You're looking great, too—I think I'll bring my girl out here to live. You always were a knockout, but now you're the loveliest thing I ever saw!" He made his way through the group surrounding Stevens, while Nadia and her father talked earnestly. "I'm Bill Newton. Thanks," he said, simply, holding out his hand, which was taken in a bone-crushing grip. "Bring him over here, Bill!" Nadia called before Stevens could find a reply. "I don't know how to say anything, Stevens," the officer continued, in embarrassment, as the two men turned to obey the summons. "She's a good kid, and we think a lot of her. We'd about given her up. We.... She.... Oh, rats, what's the use? You know what I mean. You're there, Stevens, like a...." "Clam it, ace!" Stevens interrupted. "I get you, to nineteen decimals. And you don't half know just what a good kid she really is. She's the reason we're here—we were down pretty close to bed-rock for a while, she stood up when I wilted. She's got everything. She...." "Clam it yourself, Steve! Don't believe a word of it, Dad and Bill. Wilt!" Nadia's voice dripped scorn. "Why, he di...." "Please!" Newton's voice was somewhat husky as he silenced the clamor of the three young people, all talking at once. "I will not embarrass you further by trying to say something that no words can express. You told me that you would take care of her, and I learn that you have done so." "I did what I could, but most of the credit belongs to her, no matter what she says," Stevens insisted. "Anyway, sir, here she is; alive, well and ... unharmed," and his eyes bore unflinchingly the piercing gaze of the older man, who was reassured and pleased by what he read therein. "One thing I want to say right now, though, that may make you feel like canceling the welcome. I loved Nadia even before the Arcturus was attacked, and since then, coming to know her as I have, the feeling hasn't lessened any." "Nadia has already told me all about you two," said her father, "and the welcome stands. If you could take care of her as well as you have done since you left the Arcturus, I have no doubt of your ability to take care of her for life. We have been examining the work you have done here, son, and the more I saw of it the more amazed I became that you could have succeeded as you did. We are deeply indebted.... Just a minute! There's my call—I'm wanted in Fifteen. I'll see you again directly." "Hi, Norm!" Stevens further relieved the surcharged atmosphere. "As soon as you and Quince can leave those controls come over and see us, will you?" "All x—coming up!" sounded Brandon's deep and pleasant bass, and the two rescuers, who had tactfully avoided the family reunion, came over and greeted the third of their triumvirate. "Ho, Perce—you look fit." Brandon ran an expert hand over Stevens' arm and shoulder. "Looks as if he might last a round or two, doesn't he, Quince?" "You are looking fine, Steve. Neither of you appear any the worse for your experiences. So this is Nadia? We have heard of you, Miss Newton." "I believe that, knowing Dad," she replied. "Thanks, both of you, for digging us out. I've heard about you two, and I'm going to kiss you both." Westfall, the silent and reserved, was taken aback, but Brandon met her more than half-way. "All x, Nadia—payment in full received and hereby acknowledged," he laughed, as he allowed her feet to return to the floor. "Even if it was some stout lads from Mars and Venus that did all the work we'll take the reward—especially since Alcantro and Fedanzo couldn't feel even such a high-voltage salute as that one was, and I can't picture you kissing a Venerian even if you could get to him. Whenever you get lost again, be sure to let us know, now that you've got our address. If I know Perce at all, you've heard of us 'til you're sick of it and us—it's a weakness of his—talking too much." "Why, it's no such th...." began Nadia, but broke off as an aide came up and saluted smartly. "Pardon me, but General Crowninshield requests that Doctor Brandon, Doctor Westfall, and Doctor Stevens join the council in Lounge Fifteen as soon as convenient." He saluted again and turned away. "Yes, that's right, folks—we've got to take a lot of steps, fast—see you later," and Brandon, taking each of the other two by an arm, marched them away toward the designated assembly room. There, already seated at a long table, were Czuv, King, and Breckenridge, all fully recovered, engaged in earnest conversation with Newton and Crowninshield. Alcantro and Fedanzo, the Martian scientists, were listening intently, as were the two Venerians Dol Kenor and Pyraz Amonar. The eyes of the three newcomers, however, did not linger upon the group at the table, but were irresistibly drawn to one corner of the room, where six creatures lay in the heaviest manacles afforded by the stores of the Interplanetary Police. Not only were they manacled, but each was facing a ray-projector, held by a soldier whose expression showed plainly that he would rather press the lethal contact than not. "Oh—those the things we're fighting?" Brandon stopped at the threshold and stared intently at the captive hexans. Goggling green eyes glaring venomously, they were lying quiet, but tense; mighty muscles ready to burst into berserk activity should the attention of a guard waver for a single instant. But little more than half as large as the savage creatures with whom Stevens had fought in the mountain glade upon Ganymede, the hexans resembled those aborigines only as civilized men might resemble gigantic primordial savages of our own Earth. Brandon's gaze went from short, powerful legs up a round, red body to the enormous, freakish double pair of shoulders, with its peculiar universal jointing. From the double shoulders sprang four limbs, the front pair of which were undoubtedly arms, terminating in large, but fairly normal, hands. The intermediate limbs were longer than the legs and were much more powerful than the arms, and ended in members that were very evidently feet and hands combined. What in a human being would be the back of the hand was the sole of the foot—when walking upon that foot the long and dexterous thumb and fingers were curled up, out of the way and protected from injury, in the palm of the hand. From the monstrous shoulders there rose a rather long and very flexible, yet massive and columnar neck, supporting a head neither human nor bestial—a head utterly unknown to Terrestrial history or experience. The massive cranium bespoke a highly developed and intelligent brain, as did the three large and expressive, peculiar, triangular eyes. The three sensitive ears were very long, erect, and sharply pointed. Each was set immediately above an eye, one upon each side of the head and one in front. Each ear was independently and instantly movable in any direction, to catch the faintest sound. The head, like the body and limbs, was entirely devoid of hair. The horns, so prominent in the savages Stevens had seen, were in this highly intelligent race but vestigial—three small, sharp, black protuberances only an inch in length, one surmounting each ear, outlining the lofty forehead. The nose occupied almost the whole middle of the face and was not really a nose—it developed into a small and active proboscis. The chin was receding almost to the point of disappearance, so that the mouth, with its multiple rows of small, sharp, gleaming-white teeth, was almost hidden under the face instead of being a part of it. Such were the hexans, at whom the Big Three stared in undisguised amazement. "Attention, please!" Newton called the meeting to order. "We have learned that all the passengers of the Arcturus, and all the crew save three, are alive and safe for the time being. Most of them are upon the satellite Europa. However, I understand that we are not yet sufficiently well armed to withstand such an attack in force as will certainly develop when we move to rescue them. This seems to be a war of applied physics—Doctor Brandon, as spokesman for the Scientific forces of the expedition, what are your suggestions?" "Anticipating an attack in response to signals probably sent out by the enemy," replied Brandon. "I headed directly south immediately. We are now well south the ecliptic, and are traveling at considerably more than full Martian acceleration. Before making any suggestions, I should like to hear from Captain Czuv, who is more familiar than we are with the common enemy. Are they apt to follow us: can they detect us if we should drift at constant velocity; and can we search the brains of the prisoners with his Callistonian thought-exchanger, if he should build one with our help?" "If they are close enough to us to overtake us without too much lost time, they will certainly attack us," Czuv answered at a nod from Newton. "Ordinarily they would pursue us to the limits of the Solar System if necessary, but since they have suffered reverses of late and cannot spare any vessels, they will probably not pursue us far. Yes, they can detect us, even without the driving rays, since this vessel uses much low-tension, low-frequency electricity in its automatic machinery, lights, and so on. No; our thought-transformer cannot take thoughts by force, and the hexans will exchange no ideas with us. They are implacable and deadly foes of all humanity, irrespective of planet or race. Mercy is to them unknown—they neither give nor take quarter." "I can bear him out in that," Crowninshield interposed grimly. "The first one to recover snapped our ordinary handcuffs like so much thread and literally tore four men to pieces before the rest of us could ray him. Will you need me longer, Director Newton?" "I think not. General. Captain Czuv, you have made no headway with them?" asked the Director. "None whatever, as I foretold. They understand me thoroughly, since two of them speak my own tongue, but nothing that they have said can ever be repeated here. I knew from the first that all such attempts would be fruitless, but I have tried—and failed. I suggest what I suggested at first—put them to death, here and now, as they lie there, for most assuredly they will in some way contrive to take toll of lives of your own humanity if you allow them to live." "You may be right," said Newton, "but neither the General nor myself can give the order for their death, since Interplanetary law does not countenance such summary action. However, the guards are fully warned of the peril, and will ray every prisoner at the first sign of unruliness. General Crowninshield, you may remove the prisoners and deal with them in accordance with...." Pandemonium reigned. At Crowninshield's signal for the guards to leave the room with their captives, all six had strained furiously at their bonds and three of them had broken free in a flash, throwing themselves upon the guards with unthinkable ferocity. Stevens, seeing a ray-projector in a hand of one of the prisoners, hurled his heavy chair instantly and with terrific force. The projector flew into the air, shattered and useless, while the hexan was knocked into a corner by the momentum of the massive projectile and lay there, stunned and broken. Brandon, likewise reacting instantaneously, had bent over and seized a leg of the table, bracing his knee against the corner. With a mighty lunge of his powerful body he wrenched out the support and with a continuation of the same motion, he brought the jagged oak head of his terrible club down full upon the crown of the second hexan, who had already torn one guard apart and was leaping toward Czuv, his hereditary foe. In midflight he was dashed to the floor, his head a shapeless, pulpy mass, and Brandon, bludgeon again aloft, strode deeper into the fray. For a brief moment searing lethal beams probed here and there, chains clanked and snapped, once more that ponderous and irresistible oaken mace fell like the hammer of Thor, again spattering brains and blood abroad as it descended—then again came silence. The six erstwhile prisoners lay dead, but they had taken five of the guards with them—literally dismembered, hideously torn limb from limb by the superhuman, incredible physical strength and utter ferocity of the hexans. By common consent the meeting was adjourned to another room, for the business in hand could not be postponed. "Captain Czuv was right—we Tellurians could not believe in the existence of such a race without the evidence of our own senses." Newton reopened the meeting. "From this time on we take no prisoners. Doctor Brandon, you may resume." "The detectors and lookouts will give ample warning of any attack, and Doctor Westfall has suggested that we should have all possible facts at hand before we try to decide upon a course of action. We should like to hear the full reports of Captain King, Captain Czuv, Chief Pilot Breckenridge, and Doctor Stevens." The four men told their stories tersely and rapidly, while the others listened in deep attention. As the last speaker sat down, Newton again turned to Brandon, who silently jerked his head at Westfall, knowing his own inadequacy in such a situation—realizing that here was needed Westfall's cold and methodical thinking. "Director Newton and gentlemen," Westfall spoke calmly and precisely. "We have much to do before we can meet the hexans upon equal terms. We have many new fields of force and rays to develop, of whose nature and necessity Doctor Brandon is already aware. Then, too, we must recalculate our visirays so that we can operate at greater range and efficiency. We must also examine the hexan space-ship which is towing, to do which it will be desirable to drift at constant velocity for a time. In it we may find instruments or devices as yet unknown to us. It also occurs to me that since this is an Interplanetary Police problem of the first magnitude, we should at once get in touch with Police Headquarters, so that the Peace Fleet can be armed as we ourselves are, or shall be, armed; for a large and highly efficient fleet will be necessary to do that which must be done. It is, of course, a foregone conclusion that Interplanetary humanity will support the humanity of Callisto against the hexans. "It is also self-evident that we must stay here and rescue the Tellurians now upon Europa and Callisto, but we are not yet in position to decide just how that rescue is to be accomplished. Four courses are apparently open to us. First, to attempt it as soon as we shall have strengthened our armament as much as is now possible. That would invite a massed attack, and in my opinion would be foolish—probably suicidal. Second, to stand by at a distance until the rocket-ship is launched, then to escort it back to the Earth. Third, to aid the Callistonians as much as possible while awaiting the completion of the rocket-vessel. Fourth, and perhaps the most feasible and quickest, it may be possible for the Callistonian rocket-ships to bring out fellow-Tellurians, a few at a time, to us here out in space, since they are apparently able to come and go at will. However, I would recommend that we make no plans for the rescue as yet—there is little use in attempting to deal with an ever-changing situation until we are ready to act forthwith. I suggest that we strengthen our offensive and defensive armament first, then secure information as to the exact status of affairs, both upon Callisto and upon Europa. Then, ready to act, we will do at once whatever seems called for by the situation then obtaining." "The program as outlined seems eminently sensible. Are there any comments or suggestions?" None having been offered, Director Newton adjourned the meeting and each man attacked his particular problem. True to Czuv's prediction the hexans did not deem it worthwhile to pursue the Terrestrial vessel, so obviously and so earnestly fleeing from them, and shortly, the acceleration was cut off, to render possible a thorough study of the two halves of the spherical warship of the enemy. Scientists donned space-suits and studied every feature of the strange vessel, while mechanics dismantled and transferred to the Sirius every device and instrument of interest. One or two novel and useful applications of rays and forces were found, their visirays and communicators in particular being of a high degree of efficiency; but upon the whole the science of the hexans was found to be inferior to that now known to the scientists of Interplanetary's flying laboratory. Brandon studied the hexan power-system most carefully, and, everything in readiness and after a long talk with Westfall, he called a general conference in the control-room. "Gentlemen, we have done about everything we can do for the time being. By combining the best features of the visirays and communicators of the hexans with our own newly-perfected devices, we now have a really excellent system of communication. Our friends from Mars and Venus have so altered and enlarged our force-controls that our offensive and defensive fields, rays, and screens leave little to be desired. In power we are far ahead of the enemy. They apparently know nothing of the possibilities of cosmic radiation, but depend upon tight-beam transmission from their own power-plants—which transmission they have perfected to a point far beyond anything reached by us of the three planets. They do not use accumulators, and therefore their dissipation is limited to their maximum reception, which is about seventy thousand kilofranks. Since we can dissipate ten times that amount of energy, we could withstand, for a short time, the simultaneous attacks of ten of their vessels. Eleven or more of them, however, would be able to crush our defensive screens—and Captain Czuv has seen as many as a hundred of their space-ships in one formation. Furthermore, since they have several times our maximum acceleration, they could concentrate quickly upon any desired point. We could not escape them by flight if they really set out to overtake us, which they certainly will do if we again venture into their territory. Therefore it is clear that we cannot subject ourselves to any attack in force and it follows that we cannot do much of anything until the police fleet of some five hundred vessels can be re-armed and can join us near Callisto. This will require several months at best. As you already know, it has been decided that we should not return to any of the minor planets, as to do so might invite a hexan attack upon our police fleet which is as yet unprepared. We are now heading for Uranus, in the hope that such a course will distract the attention of the hexans from Tellus, even though they probably already know that we are Tellurians. Our new communicator ray will reach any member of the Jovian system from this point. It has been decided that it is safe to use it, since it employs an almost absolutely tight beam of very small diameter, and since we know that that one hexan vessel, at least, had no apparatus sufficiently sensitive to detect a beam of that nature. We will therefore now get in touch with the Callistonians and with our own people." Brandon seated himself before the communicator screen, and while the others packed themselves closely around his stool, he snapped on the visiray and turned the dials which directed that invisible, immensely complex beam through space. The screen was apparently in itself a coign of vantage, flying through space with the velocity of light, and the watchers gasped involuntarily and drew themselves together, as with that unthinkable speed they flashed down toward the surface of Callisto. So realistic was the impression that they themselves were hurtling through the void, that they could scarcely reason themselves into believing their positive knowledge that the impending collision was not an actual happening! Reducing the velocity of the projection abruptly as it approached the satellite, Brandon flashed it down into a crater indicated by Czuv, and along a tunnel to the city of Zbardk, where the Callistonian captain held a long conversation with the Council of the nation. Frowning in thought, he turned to Newton and spoke seriously and slowly. "Immediately after the loss of our super-plane, with the supposed death of King, Breckenridge, and myself, the other Tellurian officers were returned to Europa, since even they could be of no assistance to us Callistonians in our struggle against the new, high-acceleration vessels of the hexans. The present situation is much more serious than I would have believed possible. The last vessel going to visit Wruszk, our city upon Europa, was caught and destroyed by the hexans, and for many weeks no ship or message has come from there to Callisto. In spite of the fact that the hexan fleet is smaller than ever before, they are guarding Europa very closely. It is feared that they may have found and destroyed our city there—an expedition is even now about to set out in a desperate attempt to learn the fate of our fellows." "Suppose the rays of the lifeboats were detected in landing?" asked Brandon. "That might have given them a clue." "Possibly; but it is equally possible that our own men became careless in the operation of one of our own vessels. Having been unmolested so long, they might have relaxed their vigilance. We may never know." "Tell 'em to cancel the expedition—we'll shoot the visiray over there right now and find out all about it. We'll let them know pretty quickly. Also, you might tell them that you've got complete plans and specifications for all the weapons that the hexans have, and a couple besides, and that the quicker they shoot a ship out here after you, the sooner they can get to building some stuff to blow those hexans clear out of space!" It was the work of only a few moments to drive the visiray projection to Europa, where Czuv, to the great relief of all, found that the hexans had not yet discovered either Wruszk or the Terrestrial workings. All Europan humanity, fully aware of the hexan investment, was exerting every possible precaution against discovery by the enemy. This information was duly flashed to the Council of Callisto, and the projection was then hurled across the intervening reaches of space and into the cavern in which was being built the enormous rocket-ship in which the Terrestrial refugees were to attempt the long voyage back to their own distant planet. It took some little time to convince Doctor Penfield that there had been projected into the empty air of his little sanctum an absolutely invisible and impalpable structure of pure force capable of receiving and transmitting voice and vision. Once convinced of the reality of the phenomenon, however, the speaker beside Brandon's communicator screen fairly rattled under the fervor of his greeting, so great was his pleasure at the arrival of the expedition of relief and in knowing that King and Breckenridge, whom they had, of course, given up for dead, were aboard the Interplanetary vessel. Penfield reported that the work upon the great rocket-ship was progressing satisfactorily, although slowly, since it was so much larger than any vessel theretofore constructed by the Callistonians. Newton, in turn, informed the autocrat of the stranded Terrestrials as to the status quo of the rescuing party. "Of course, because of the hexan blockade, you cannot take us off until they have been wiped out, which will be several months at best," the surgeon said, slowly, and a shadow came over his face as he spoke. "Well, what can't be cured...." "Trouble with the personnel?" King broke in sharply. "Personnel, yes; but not trouble in the sense you mean—we have had none of that. It is only that there are four more of us now than there were...." "Huh? How come?" demanded Brandon, in astonishment. "Four babies have been born to us here so far, and several more are coming. They are the ones I'm worried about. Most normal adults can stand it here without any serious effects, but this thin atmosphere and weak gravity are certain to result in abnormal development of children. However, there may be another way out of it. Are you using normal acceleration, or have you Martians aboard?" "Both," replied Brandon. "We are carrying two inhabitants of Mars, but Alcantro and Fedanzo are not ordinary Martians. They have been in constant training ever since we left Tellus, and now they can stand as high an acceleration as a weak Tellurian. We're riding at normal." "Good! As you already know, there has been no communication of late between here and Callisto. It had already been decided, however, that one more voyage must be risked, in order to bring back material which is most urgently needed. Since the vessel will leave here light and is large enough to carry about thirty passengers on a short trip with some crowding, the Council will probably approve of having it carry some of our passengers out to the Sirius—especially now, since a vessel must visit you, anyway, to get Captain Czuv and the specifications of the new armament. All these things can be done with one vessel in one trip." "That sounds fine!" boomed King. "It will give me a chance to get back there where I belong, too. Whom are you sending out?" "The seven couples who either have babies already or who will have them in the next few months; and some of our young who aren't standing the gaff any too well. You won't be in the red very deeply on the deal, either—while two or three of the passengers I am sending you will certainly be a nuisance; anybody could use, anywhere, such men as Commander Sanderson and Lieut..." "Sanderson!" interrupted King. "Why, he wasn't—when did he get married?" "The day after we arrived here," replied the surgeon. "His fiancee was aboard the Arcturus, and when they found out how long we would have to be here, they very sensibly decided not to wait." "Were there any others?" demanded Nadia, who, standing between Stevens and her father, had been an interested listener. "Plenty of them! Fourteen of our young women passengers have married here upon Europa. A few married fellow-passengers, but most of them picked out officers of the Arcturus. You'll find your staff made up pretty largely of benedicts now, King! We've been here a year, you know, and time will tell! Young Commander Sanderson's a fine baby—he'll be a credit to the IPC some day, if we can get him aboard the Sirius, where he can get a good start. We could give our babies normal air pressure here by building special rooms, but we cannot give them the normal acceleration necessary to develop their muscles properly." "Well, we'd better snap over to Callisto and take this up with the Council," Brandon put in. "I don't imagine that there will be any objections, so you might as well get your ship gassed up and loaded—we'll be back here with the okay in about a minute and a half." With Brandon at the controls and with Czuv at the communicator plate, the projection flashed toward distant Callisto and the group melted away, each man going about his interrupted task. "Daddy, take us somewhere—I want to talk to you," Nadia spoke to her father, and the director led her and Stevens to his own room. "All x, daughter; out with it!" and he bent upon her a quizzical glance, under which a fiery blush burned from her throat to her forehead. "Dad, I've been thinking a lot since you rescued us, and what we've just heard has given me the nerve to say it. Steve, of course, wouldn't dare suggest such a thing until we're safely back on Earth, so I will." Her deep brown eyes held his steadily. "All those girls got married—why, some of them have babies already—and Steve and I have waited for each other so long, daddy! And none of them love each other the way we do. Do they, Steve?" "I don't see how they could, sir; and that goes straight across the panel," and he bore unflinchingly the piercing gaze of the older man as his right arm encircled the girl and held her close. "Well, why not?" A sudden smile transformed Newton's stern visage. "There are three chaplains with the police—a Methodist minister, a Catholic priest, and a Jewish rabbi. Also, we have on board two full-fledged I-P captains, either of whom is authorized to tie matrimonial knots. The means are not lacking—if you're both sure of yourselves?" and all levity disappeared as he studied the two young faces. "Yes, you are sure," he continued after a moment "just as her mother and I were—and are. It is too bad that she cannot be here with you, but it may be a long time before we can return to Tellus, and you have indeed waited long. "Oh thanks, Daddy, you're just a perfectly wonderful old darling!" Nadia exclaimed, as she threw her arms rapturously around his neck. "And this isn't a warship at all—you know perfectly well that it's a research laboratory, and that as soon as the Navy gets here, you won't let it fight a bit more, because such scientists can't be allowed to risk themselves! And also, you're forgetting that whole flock of women and babies that are coming out here just as fast as they can get themselves ready. So get going, daddy old dear, and let's do things! Steve's a Quaker and we're Presbyterians, so none of the chaplains will do at all. Besides, I promised Captain King ages ago that he could marry me, so go get him and we'll do it now. Bill can be my bridesmaid, you'll give me away, and Steve can have the other two of his Big Three for best men. I'm off to hunt up the flimsiest, fussiest white dress I can find in my trunks. Let's go!" "Mr. Newton." Stevens spoke thoughtfully as Nadia darted away. "You said something about her mother, I didn't want to say anything to raise false hopes while she was here, but I've got an idea. Let's meet in Brandon's room instead of here. We can send code to Tellus easily enough on our ultrawave, and we may be able to fake up something on vision." A few minutes later the Big Three were in Brandon's private study; staring intently into a screen of ground glass upon which played flickering, flashing lights, while the black-haired physicist manipulated micrometer dials in infinitesimal arcs. "Once more, Mac," Brandon directed. "Pretty nearly had them that time. We're stretching this projector about six hundred percent, but we've got to make this connection. Can't you give me just a little more voltage on those secondaries?" "I can not!" the voice of the first assistant snapped from the speaker. "I'm overloading now so badly that some of my plates are getting hot—if I hold this voltage much longer, the whole secondary bank of tubes is going out. All x—you're on zero!" "All x!" Flashing and waning, the lights upon the screen formed fleeting, shifting, nebulous images of a relay station upon distant Earth; but the utmost power of the transmitting fields could neither steady the image nor hold it. "Back off, Mac," Brandon instructed. "I'm afraid we can't hold 'em direct—no use blowing a bank of tubes. We'll try relaying through Mars—we can hold them there, I think. It will muss up reception some, but it will probably be better than direct, at that. Point oh five three six ... all x—shoot!" Brandon's relay station upon Mars was finally raised and held, and a corps of keenly interested engineers there made short work of the Earth-Mars linkage. Soon the screen glowed with the picture of the transmitter-room of the Terrestrial station, and while the three men were waiting for Mrs. Newton to be called to her own television set, the door behind them opened. Nadia and her escorts entered the room—but Stevens' eyes saw only the entrancing vision of loveliness that was his bride. Dressed in a clinging white gown of shimmering silk, her hair a golden blond corona, sweetly curved lips slightly parted and wide eyes eloquent, she paused momentarily as Stevens came to his feet and stared at her, his very heart in his eyes. "You never saw me in a dress before—do you like me, Steve?" "Like you! You're beautiful!" and gray eyes and brown, deep with wonder and with love, met and held as, unheeding the presence of their friends, they went into each other's arms in a coalescence as inevitable and as final as Fate itself. "Hi, Nadia old dear!" and "Daughter, from what I can see of my son-in-law, I believe that he may do," came together from the speaker. Nadia tore herself from Stevens' embrace, to see upon the lambent screen the happily smiling faces of her mother and sister. "Mother! Claire! Oh, you three wonder-workers!" She addressed simultaneously the distant Terrestrials and the scientists at her side, while broken exclamations, punctuated by ominous, crackling snaps, came from the laboring amplifier. "Sorry to interrupt," MacDonald's voice broke in, "but you'll have to hurry it up. Alcantro and Fedanzo are doing their best, but every plate in my secondary bank's red hot, and you could fry an egg on any one of my transformers. Even my primary tubes are running hot. She won't hold together five minutes longer!" Captain King opened his book, and in that small steel room, unadorned save for stack upon stack of bookcases, the brief but solemn ceremony joining two young lives was read—its solemnity only intensified by its unique accompaniment. For from Brandon at the primary controls, through the power-room of the Sirius and the relay-station upon Mars, to the immense Interplanetary transmitter upon Earth, the greatest radio and television engineers of two planets were fighting overdriven equipment, trying to hold an almost impossible connection, in order that Nadia Newton's mother and sister might be present at her wedding, hundreds of millions of miles distant in space! "I pronounce you man and wife. Whom God hath joined, let no man put asunder." The sacred old ritual ended and Captain King picked up the bride in his great arms as though she were a baby, kissed her vigorously, and set her down in front of the transmitter. In the midst of the joyous confusion that ensued a tearing, rattling crash came from the speaker and the screen went blank. "There!" lamented MacDonald from the power room. "I knew they'd blow! There goes my whole secondary bank—eight perfectly good ten-nineteens all shot to...." "That's too bad, but it couldn't be helped; they went for a good cause," interrupted Brandon. "I'll come down and help clean up the mess." Leaving the bridal party, he made his way rapidly to the power room, where he found MacDonald and the two Martians inspecting the smoking remains of what had been the secondary bank of their powerful ultra-transmitter. Spare parts in abundance were on hand, and it was not long until the damaged section was apparently as good as new. "Now to try her out," Brandon announced. "We want to give her a good workout, but there's no use trying the I-P stations any more—they're altogether too hard to handle at this range. Czuv said something about an unknown race of monstrosities at the south pole of Jupiter—let's try it on them for a while." He flung the field of force out into space, as responsive to his will as a well-trained horse, and guided it toward the southern limb of that gigantic world. Down and down the projection plunged, through mile after mile of reeking, steaming fog, impenetrable to earthly eyes. Finally it came to rest upon the surface, hundreds of feet deep in a lush, dank, tropical jungle, and Brandon plugged into the Venerian room. "Kenor? We've got a lot of use for you, if you can come down here for a while. Thanks a lot." He turned to the Martians. "Luckily, we've got a couple of infra-red transformers aboard, so we won't have to build one. You fellows might break one out and shunt it onto this circuit while Dol Kenor is hunting up something for us to look at. "Hi, old Infra-Eyes!" he went on, as the Venerian scientist waddled into the room in his bulging space-suit. "We've got something here that's right down your alley. Want to see what you can see?" "Ah, a beautiful scene!" exclaimed Dol Kenor, after one glance into the plate. "It is indeed a relief, after all this coldness and glare, to see such a soft, warm landscape—even though I have never expected to behold quite such a violent bit of jungle," and under his guidance the projection flashed over hundreds of miles of territory. To the eyes of the Terrestrials the screen revealed only a blank, amorphous grayness, through which at times there shot lines and masses of vague and meaningless form; but the Venerian was very evidently seeing and enjoying many and diverse scenes. "There, I think, is what you wish to see first," he announced, as he finally steadied the controls, and Brandon cut in upon the shunting screen the infra-red transformer. This device, developed long before to render possible the use of Terrestrial eyes in the opaque atmosphere of Venus, stepped up the fog-piercing long waves into the frequencies of light capable of affecting the earthly retina. Instantly the dull gray blank of the shunting screen became transformed into a clear and colorful picture of the great city of the Jovians of the South. "Great Cat!" Brandon exclaimed. "Flying fortresses is right! They're in war formation, too, or I'm a polyp! We've got to watch this, Mac, all of it, and watch it close—it's apt to have a big bearing on what we'll have to do, before they get done. Better we rig up another set, and put a relay of observers on this job!" <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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