by Jerry
The clouds of missiles the invaders dropped back thickened. More and more of the pursuing ships met them head-on. Suddenly, a ship flying above and slightly ahead of the giant torpedo that Don Stelite commanded, burst into a mass of blinding flame and flying metal. No time for the nearer ships to dodge! A huge fragment struck the stern of Don Stelite’s ship, going through like a flash, and wrecked the steering mechanism in its swift passage from top to bottom of the ship. The shock caused the nose of the disabled craft to swerve sharply up, narrowly missing ship after ship in its path as it headed in a course all its own. Before it could be brought to a stop, the fleets of the Confederation had not only disappeared out of sight, but also out of range of its sensitive, matter-detecting instruments.
Don Stelite, reporting what had occurred, received orders to make temporary repairs and follow in the wake of the fleets.
The damage, judged by the first rough survey, was thought to be slight. Later and more thorough examination showed that such was not the case. One of the main driving generators with its mighty power unit, besides the steering mechanism, was a mass of fused and twisted metal. A great jagged hole showed where the fragment had entered.
The ship’s outer walls would have to be patched up first. Men in their pressure-suits began pouring out with their tools to begin that task. Days—Earth-time—slipped into weeks, then a month, still the damage was not wholly repaired. Three months passed before the ship finally could proceed.
In the direction of that nearby star moved the lone ship. Swifter and swifter it sped. Time and space slipped smoothly by. Brighter grew the star toward which it was heading, brighter and brighter.
The force of which the Solarians were part was still pursuing the invaders. Nothing of any special importance had occurred. Then Don Stelite, in his lone ship far in the rear, listened in on a message from the fleets ahead telling that the invaders, nearing the solar system toward which they were fleeing, were bringing their ships to a stop as if preparing to make a stand. A little while later reports, going back to the Supreme Council, told that the fleets of the Confederation, maintaining their great velocity, were about to smash into the waiting ships. Then the front ranks struck, becoming instantly the center of a seething maelstrom of destruction that ever widened.
For a long time after that message there was silence, broken, at last, by another voice. But hardly had the voice identified itself before it was drowned out by a torrent of rumbling and groaning sounds that issued from the receiver. Then abrupt silence. It did not augur well for the fleets of the Confederation.
As the lone torpedo drew near that star, those within saw plenty of signs of a terrific struggle. Wrecks and massive fragments of countless ships darted aimlessly about No sign of life came from those broken ships. Thicker grew the mass of wreckage as the torpedo continued to approach that star. Wrecks bearing the emblem of the Confederation were just as numerous as those without.
It was becoming increasingly more dangerous each moment for the torpedo to continue to make its way into the ever-thickening mass of wreckage. Many of the hulks were darting about at terrific velocities. Though the ship was equipped with automatic devices to prevent collision, they were practically worthless in that crowded area or against objects traveling above a certain speed. Therefore, those on watch, knowing that if their attention were diverted for a moment it might mean instant death, kept tensely alert.
Nearer to that star the torpedo crept, and nearer. The wrecks began to thin out. It came to a region that was comparatively free of those flashing hulks. Ahead, about the distance it would take light eight days to cross, lay the star. No sign of any of its family of planets could yet be made out the greatest of space-penetrating apparatus aboard the ship swept the region. At last a planet revolving about that star was made out. Toward it the torpedo moved. Larger grew the planet’s disk in the observation windows. A halo surrounding the disk showed that it possessed an atmosphere.
Warily the torpedo moved nearer. The men manning the ship’s mighty engines of destruction were tense. The great space-penetrating instrument showed the surface dotted with huge structures. It also showed immense pits and large glazed areas, where explosives and heat rays had struck. No ships or rays swept out to challenge the torpedo.
Slowly the ship crept closer. The world below might be a trap. It halted just outside of the atmosphere. There was no sign of life on the world below. A score of men in their pressure-suits, armed with tiny atomic-bombs, dropped down at various points. They reported that the world was deserted.
The giant torpedo moved closer to that luminary. Other planets had been sighted. Toward the next, the ship sped. Signs of terrific bombardment were everywhere about its surface. Mighty cities had once evenly dotted the surface of that planet, but now many of them were so battered to the ground that not a structure remained standing. Men dropped down to investigate. It was also deserted. Most of the automatic machinery in the structures still standing on that world was still running. It seemed as if the inhabitants had intended to return.
Leaving the second planet, the ship moved to the next nearest. It was more battered than the other two. Huge masses of metal, shattered space-ships, lay thick around high mounds of masonry and metal that had been the largest cities on that world. The ruins of a huge matter-transmitter could be made out near one of the largest mounds of masonry. That world, too, was also utterly devoid of life.
Three more worlds were visited by the torpedo. On two of them, as on the other three, no sign of life could be found. On the third and nearest to the luminary of that solar system yet visited stood a huge matter-transmitter. Dwarfing any structure still standing on that world it rose mountain high. Near it lay vast heaps of fused and twisted metal composed of shattered spaceships. In the distance, circling that transmitter like a chain of mountains, lay a ring of smashed ships piled high. On top of one of the vast heaps near the transmitter, a giant Solarian ship could be seen lying broken across a Magellanian ship.
As if by a miracle, the structure housing the matter-transmitter had escaped destruction. The surface, for miles surrounding it, bore evidence of having been much churned by showers of mighty projectiles.
Men dropped down to that vast structure to see if any living creatures were in it As they drew near, they heard the mechanism of the transmitter running—smoothly! Stealthily they landed on and near the mountain-like structure. No sign of life could they And.
Another group of men was dropped on the broken Solarian ship. They reported that none of the crew was alive. The ship’s log showed that the Magellanians, fighting grimly, had been beaten back to that world. They had begun to retreat into the transmitter. That was the last entry. No doubt the fleets of the Confederation had followed the invaders into that transmitter and had gone out into some far-off solar system.
Don Stelite, after recalling the men, was about to order his ship to proceed back to the solar system from which the fleets had come, when a badly battered Magellanian ship tore itself out of one of the heaps of shattered ships and sped straight for the transmitter. As the Magellanian ship drew near the transmitter it blazed away at the torpedo with its weapons. Though the range was almost point-blank, it missed again and again. Before the Solarian ship could reply with its own weapons, it had disappeared into the huge structure. The hum of the transmitting mechanism within rose to a shrill scream, dying swiftly down to a low hum again, then it was gone.
After it flashed the torpedo. The mouth of the transmitter yawned wide. The indistinct impression of being torn asunder caught the crew in mid-breadth, followed next instant by the process of being reassembled. Then out on a jagged world, so jagged the men peering out of the observation windows could scarcely believe it possible, the ship moved.
Up and away from the broken surface the torpedo rose. A dull red ball glowing balefully in the heavens bathed the receding surface. No atmosphere of any appreciable density enveloped that world. Its jaggedness bore mute witness to the terrible bombardmen
t it must have been subjected to. The only structure still standing was the one that housed the transmitter. An artificial mountain of metal leaning over the vast structure had protected it from destruction. Several deep cracks criss-crossed the portion of that mountain of metal leaning over the transmitter, and, as the torpedo moved away, a huge section dropped upon the transmitter, crushing it.
Some of the members of the crew stationed near the observation windows, gazing out into the surrounding blackness as the ship moved away from that battered world, were troubled for a moment by a vague sense of familiarity, then came the realization that they were at the edge of the galaxy once morel. The feebly glowing sun and its jagged planet seemed to comprise that whole solar system. Behind that dying star, about three light-years off, was a compact cluster of old red stars.
IN the distance the ship the torpedo had followed into the transmitter was sighted. Away from the galaxy, with swiftly mounting speed, it was hurtling. After it darted the torpedo. From the Magellanian ship a powerful disintegration ray swept back. It was met and neutralized by a beam of equal strength streaming from the nose of the torpedo. The crews of both ships began to bring other weapons into play.
The men handling the torpedo’s lesser engines of destruction were just beginning to get the range when the ship in front was seen to dodge madly. Not from the weapons of the giant torpedo in the rear was it dodging so wildly, the next instant showed that; all of its weapons, even those on the bulge of the ship that had been trained over the stern, were being turned ahead. Then in front of the Magellanian ship appeared a number of specks, that rapidly grew into space ships. They were of a dozen different shapes. Too far away to see if they bore the emblem of the Confederation were those distant ships. As they drew near the dodging Magellanian ship in their path they suddenly concentrated their rays upon it, destroying it instantly.
Behind those ships, there were about five score; other specks began to materialize. At first only about a thousand could be made out, but behind them came tens of thousands more. From that thousand or so specks in front of the others, vibrations of all frequencies streamed toward the five score nearer ships. Even as those aboard Don Stelite’s ship watched, fully half of those five score ships disappeared in puffs of hazy light as powerful disintegration beams picked them out. Desperately the remaining ships flung a barrage of destructive vibrations back at the distant specks.
Don Stelite had ordered his ship to slow down the instant the specks in front had been sighted. Now it was ready to dart in any direction.
One of the men at the eyepiece of one of the mighty telescopes aboard the torpedo reported that he made out the Confederation’s emblem on the nearest of the fifty or so odd ships. The Confederation’s cryptic symbols underneath the emblem showed that the cubes and disks had come from Tau Ceti and Altair. When those cryptic symbols were deciphered, they realized that those few fleeing ships were the sole survivors of the scores of fleets of which the Solarians had been part.
Don Stelite tried to get in touch with the approaching ships with the aid of the torpedo’s powerful communicating apparatus, but all that issued from the instrument was a torrent of rumbling and grumbling noises that could not be tuned out. Delicate instruments showed that the discord came from the specks in the rear. The invaders had undoubtedly found out the narrow vibratory band used by the ships of the Confederation for purposes of communication and made communication by that means an impossibility.
From one of those approaching ships bearing the emblem of the Confederation, a powerful mentality sought out the captain of the giant torpedo. It demanded imperiously that he identify himself.
“Don Stelite, captain of space battleship No. 162 of Fleet No. 27,040,” was the prompt telepathic reply.
“Your fleet belonged to our force. What is your ship doing here?”
Swiftly Don Stelite told of the accident which caused him to follow the Magellanian ship into the transmitter.
“Is the matter-transmitter in the nearby solar system still unharmed?”
“No.”
“Then turn your ship about and head for the cluster of red stars behind the nearby dying sun. Drive your ship at a velocity it has never been driven before. You must reach that duster, for you have undoubtedly already discovered that your communicating apparatus is useless, and warn them that a mighty host of the invaders is approaching. Your ship is too far ahead for the invaders to have detected you with their instruments. We, the last of the force of which your fleet was part, will attempt to hold the foremost of the invaders back while you make your escape.”
Don Stelite hastened to obey. The torpedo swung sharply about and headed for the cluster. Faster and faster it sped. The two score and ten ships behind were going down one by one. Soon the last one was destroyed. The thousands of specks in the distance were growing larger.
Swiftly the torpedo gained velocity. The specks in the distance no longer grew larger. For a while the foremost of those far-off Magellanian ships remained about the same size in the eyepieces of the great telescopes; then they began to grow smaller as the torpedo, straining its driving mechanism to the utmost, drove onward with increasing speed.
At first no message could be sent nor received on the torpedo’s powerful communicating set, for the rumbling and grumbling continued to drown everything else out. But as the distance between the torpedo and the Magellanian ships increased, the blanket of interference laid down upon the communicating channel grew weaker. At last the discord could partially be tuned out.
Don Stelite then tried to get in touch with the cluster. The sound vibrations, impinged upon gravitational lines of force, bridged the gap in an instant. After two or three attempts, communication with one of the solar systems of that cluster was established. Identifying himself, he began to warn them of the approaching host.
The warning was immediately relayed to the Supreme Council. After checking the position of that lone ship, they dispatched a fleet of swift scouts in its direction.
Ever toward that cluster hurtled the torpedo. Brighter grew the outermost fringe of dying stars composing it. The matter-detecting instruments aboard the torpedo acted strangely for a while, then went dead. No known cause could be assigned to the failure of those sensitive instruments. Suddenly, between the slender Solarian ship and the red stars, darted a long line of Magellanian ships. Before the torpedo could slacken its speed or swerve, it was in their midst.
About the torpedo closed the nearest ships of that line. Not daring to use their powerful disintegration rays for fear of destroying their own ships, the invaders concentrated heat rays and other vibrations upon it. But the crew of the torpedo, having no such fears, were determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible. In an instant every weapon aboard that torpedo began to vomit death and destruction. Ship after ship surrounding it, riddled, fell away, others disappeared in hazy puffs or became fused masses of metal.
Back from that slender ship, which was blazing a swift path of destruction through their lines, drew the nearest Magellanian ships. Open space was just beginning to show ahead of the torpedo when a series of vibrations penetrated metal walls and caught the crew in their grip. The torpedo became strangely silent.
Suddenly, through the galaxy, raced word that another part of the main Magellanian column that had split into three parts had been sighted by a fleet of swift scouting ships that had been sent out to verify a warning received from a ship claiming to be the only survivor of Fleet No. 27,040.
When that part of the column had been sighted by the scouts, it was close to the cluster of old red stars, heading in its direction. That cluster was very compact, eighty-three solar systems crowding within a sphere a little more than three light-years in diameter. In that cluster were hundreds of planets inhabited by races who were some of the oldest of the original members of the Confederation. The solar system, which the Supreme Council had made its headquarters, was in the very center.
Guarding that red cluster was a mighty force
of ships.
Ready were the allied races of the Confederation to turn their attention wholly to the invaders outside of the island universe. Most of the Magellanians within the galaxy had been overwhelmed when the fleets that had destroyed the remnant of the center column had poured down upon them from every direction. Only within a few score isolated solar systems in which the invaders had cut themselves off from their own kind, as well as the forces of the Confederation by shutting down the matter-transmitters, did they still retain possession of the worlds they had captured. The Confederation would attend to them later.
Again did the Supreme Council order the allied races of the Confederation to send forth their legions. In answer to that summons, they began to pour from a myriad points.
Steadily, new streams of ships, the flagships bearing the curious crests of their commanders emblazoned below the emblem of the Confederation, poured out of the solar systems at the edge of the cluster, facing the approaching Magellanian column, and rushed into space. On each of the planets of those outermost solar systems there was at least one huge matter-transmitter. Space in front of those red stars swiftly began to fill up with countless fleets of mighty ships.
Even the human race had prepared another fleet, Lunarian volunteers manning a number of ships, and was sending it forth. Terribly did the transmitter at the southern tip of Earth whine as ships flowed steadily into it. Out of another transmitter at the edge of the galaxy they were pouring. An orange-colored sun glowing feebly near the horizon of that world greeted them. Up through a blood-red atmosphere the slender Solarian ship climbed—and out into space.
Not unnoticed had gone the mad, resistless sweep of the first Solarian fleet when called upon to clear the way for the fleets following in that solar system having but two planets. Seldom did the races of the Confederation display such utter fearlessness when attacking the dreaded invaders. Winging through the galaxy had gone the tale of their irresistible fury.