Space Lawyers: A Collaborative Collection

by Nat Schachner; Arthur Leo Zagat

  "I know you are, old fellow," Al said affectionately.

  At last the procession reached the entrance hall of their first acquaintance. In the presence of their awestruck friends, they donned the space suits, and descended the long ramp to the lower trap door. Opening it, they peered down into the funnel, and beheld their good old space flier still faithfully swinging as they had left it.

  The Prostak scientists crowded at the trap door to gaze curiously at the strange contrivance of their visitors. Then the last farewells were said between these members of alien races—the Earthmen were choked with emotion—and they screwed their helmets in place.

  The last they ever saw of this noble, gentle people as the trap closed were the waving tentacles and flaming characters equivalent to "God speed".

  Into the air lock they passed; the mechanism functioned smoothly, and once more they found themselves in the familiar interior of the ship; ready to start on the most tremendous, the strangest adventure ever undertaken by mortal men!

  The grapples were cast off. Immediately the space ship left the surface, rapidly the velocimeter needle passed up the dial, indicating greater and greater speed. Through the vast reaches of unknown space the devoted craft sped, fast in the grip of a force whose nature was unfathomable.

  The adventurers were sober now. The lively curiosity, which had hitherto sustained them through the strange experiences which had thus far been their lot, was now overlaid by the knowledge that they were starting out to combat a vast and terrible unknown. In this weird universe, infinitely far from all that was familiar, they were challenging an obscene power, a power so great that it had subjugated an infinity of worlds, had dominated them and levied horrible tribute upon them. Was it conceivable that these two puny men, in their midget ship, could successfully meet and conquer so great a power?

  With a wry grin Al spoke. "Joe, I think we are the prize fools of two universes. Why should we risk ourselves in this attempt, for the sake of worlds which are not even of our own universe? My wild surmise as to the danger to our own space is far-fetched. Let's think it over again, before it's too late. We can still turn aside—find another sphere where conditions are suitable for our existence—and pass the rest of our days in comfort! What do you say?"

  The usually flippant Joe was very subdued now. Gravely he replied, "You know I dislike heroics, Al. Melodramatic speeches aren't in my line at all. But, isn't this a glorious way to die, if die we must? To set out, two little men in a little ship, to battle the master of a universe? Just think, what is the alternative? To land in one of these strange globes, to rot away our lives in an alien atmosphere.

  "That may suit you, I don't want to pass out that way. Rather fail, but fail gloriously, in this great adventure, this wild, quixotic attempt to free a universe from slavery. Come, Al, pep up! I know what's on your mind. You feel that you got me into this, and it worries you. Forget it! When I joined up, I knew that the chances were a thousand to one against our ever getting back. They're a million to one now, what of it? Funny thing, I've got a hunch that we'll win through yet."

  Fries stuck out his hand, grasped that of his friend in gratitude. "Thanks Joe, I feel better now. I did think that I had gotten you into something that I had no right to. Now that I know how you take it, I can carry on. We'll win through yet, they can't lick us. Let's go!"

  Onward, ever onward, the spaceship rushed. The speed was terrific, black spheres rushed by with the speed of light. Ever brighter, ever more intense, grew the blue of the firmament. A dull sense of foreboding settled down on the two friends, an oppressive sense of awe.

  At last there came a time when the tremendous velocity of their progress began to slacken. By this time the glaring blue illumination had grown so intense that it was necessary to keep the portholes thickly covered. Only a tiny slit had been left, through which, eyes protected by thick-covered goggles, the adventurers took fleeting glimpses of the space around them. For long, now, they had passed beyond the last vestige of the dark worlds of this universe. There was nothing without but that intense blue glare.

  Slower and slower, the ship seemed to hover in that interminable emptiness. A mere 500 miles per second was the speed indicated by the meter which Al had adjusted to the new condition of this new space. A mere 500 miles per second, but ever onward toward the unknown menace.

  Bulking in the firmament ahead, now appeared the Thing they had sped to combat, the vast transparent shell of the Emperor of the Stars. A huge hollow sphere it was, almost a thousand feet across, of fused, clear quartz, the walls tremendously thick!

  V. — THE EMPEROR OF THE STARS

  IN the center of the great hollow floated a disk that almost reached across the globe. On it appeared a hive of great machines and apparatus. Giant pistons slid back and forth, huge vacuum tubes glowed with electronic discharges, motors and dynamos were surging with power. Bathing all, and pulsing out into the unfathomable space, was the strange blue glare.

  No sign of sentient life! Only the machines that spun and flared interminably.

  An exclamation from Al as he peered through the telescope brought Joe to the other eyepiece of the binocular. There, on the platform, out of a cabin-like affair, walked—a man! An Earthman, too, no doubt about it. A wizened, shrivelled creature, with straggly white hair, and deep furrowed cheeks. But the eyes—they were burning coals, aflame with relentless cruelty. Once they lifted up in the direction of the onrushing space ship and the hearts of the watchers skipped a beat. Evidently they were too far away to be visible, for the evil eyes turned indifferently away, and the Emperor busied himself about his apparatus.

  Joe turned an awed look on Al. "Gosh, but you hit the nail on the head, all right. If I weren't with you all the time, I'd think you had sneaked a look at this bird before you concocted your deductions."

  "Just a lucky guess," Al decried modestly. "But let me tell you something. Just because this bird is a human being just like ourselves, doesn't mean that we're not in for the fight of our lives. He looks puny enough, but he's possessed of undreamt-of powers. I'm very much afraid our weapons will prove no match for those which he commands."

  "Well, a man can die but once," Joe responded philosophically.

  Slower and slower drifted the space ship.

  And now, here and there in the weird blue light, dark specks appeared, floating silently in that immensity. At first they thought them worlds—tiny... far off... But when the telescope was focussed on the black objects, they proved to be elongated cylinders, the cylinders in which the tribute slaves were being carried to the Emperor's domain. Nearer and nearer they plunged, irresistibly drawn to the great quartz sphere.

  One came rushing by, then on beyond in headlong plunge. Straight into the effulgent radiance it dived, then, suddenly, a section of the quartz shell swung open, the cylinder sped in, the section slid simultaneously back into position.

  With bated breath, the daring adventurers waited to see what would happen next.

  The cylinder floated directly to the platform, came to a quivering halt against a huge plate, evidently a powerful magnet. The old man swiftly pressed a button. The head of the cylinder opened on a hinge. A nozzle directly opposite, sprayed a liquid into the interior.

  "Chloroform, or something like it," hazarded Joe.

  Then a mechanical arm reached in, pulled out, one by one, six denizens of some world of this universe, akin in general structure to the Prostaks.

  Gloatingly, the evil scientist surveyed the limp, unconscious forms. Then with a strength amazing in one so frail looking, he lifted a body to what seemed to be an operating table. A huge hypodermic appeared in his hand, the keen point pierced the outer tissue of the helpless unfortunate, and the contents squirted home.

  Joe's eyes were glued to the telescope in horror. "Know what the old beast is doing?" he shouted excitedly to Al. "Injecting some fiendish solution into their brains to make them submissive slaves to his evil will. Come on, I can't stand wat
ching it any longer. Let's get him before he works on the others."

  "Hold your horses," Al raised his voice in warning. "We're liable to hit sudden death if you keep going off half-cocked. Let's see what happens further before we attack. Maybe we can get a line on his vulnerable points."

  Again and again the ghastly operation was repeated. Then the yet unconscious creatures were replaced in the metallic cylinder, lid clamped into place. The Emperor pulled a switch, the cylinder moved swiftly off the platform, darted through an automatically opening section, and vanished into the blue empyrean.

  "Headed straight for one of the slave worlds," commented Al grimly. "We'll have to get busy now. Check up on the disruptor tube, Joe."

  Mounted on the outer housing of the space ship, a great tube thrust its copper nose menacingly forth. Latest product of the scientific skill of the Earth, it had done yeoman service in dissipating the clouds of wandering meteors that had disputed the passage of the spheroid through space. Would it avail now, against this super-scientist. Emperor of the Stars?

  It was Joe who noticed it first. "My God, Al, we're moving fast again, and towards the sphere."

  Al sprang to the instrument panel. Sure enough, they were caught in a vast attraction force, were being drawn irresistibly to the enemy. "Quick Joe, let loose the forward rockets to hold us back," while he sprang to the trigger of the disruptor tube.

  In an instant the rockets let loose their fierce surge of power. The staunch ship trembled with the force of the reaction. The velocimeter needle hesitated, slid backward a trifle, then slowly, remorselessly, crept forward again into full speed ahead. The mighty attraction was overpowering their puny efforts.

  Now, for the first time, as they rushed closer, the wizened Emperor looked up, saw the oncoming space ship. Al, taut at the telescope, saw the startled blaze of recognition, to be succeeded by a maniacal glare of hatred. The bloodless lips curled into a soundless screech, the man darted for a huge lever, reached it, threw it with all his might.

  A blinding blue flame scorched through the firmament, straight for them. Frantically, Al swerved the ship. A cataclysmic glare, the crash of a thousand thunderbolts, a ripping, tearing sound as the blue death seared the side of the space flier. Had it not been for the sudden swerve, the fight would have been over then and there. "Now," Al shouted, and the great disruptor tube roared its electronic discharge. A section of the shell buckled and melted at the impact, but the quartz was too tremendously thick. It was not more than one quarter penetrated.

  Meanwhile the death rays were darting in continuous streams about their devoted ship. The rocket tubes, the electronic projector, roared deafeningly. The air within the flier was bursting with the terrific tumult.

  Another blinding flash, a shattering crash, another ray had found its mark, sheared off in its glancing flight a stout metal plate. How long could this one-sided combat continue? It was only a question of time before a death ray would hit its target squarely, and then—!

  Desperately Joe worked at the controls, twisted and turned the ship in irregular zigzag dashes. Al pumped the trigger of the disruptor tube in continuous bursts. All over the face of the great transparent sphere, the quartz shattered and pitted, but still there was no break.

  The eyes of the straggly haired Emperor envenomed triumphantly as he reached for another lever. Immediately the staunch ship twisted and groaned in torment. A giant force seized and crushed it, the metal plates were straining, buckling under the tremendous pressure. A few minutes, and the great steel rivets would be sheared from their holes.

  White lipped, Al ceased his aimless firing. In all the hellish tumult, he forced his weary brain into activity. There was only one chance in a million. Emulate the woodpecker, he thought grimly.

  Coolly, methodically, he put his plan into action. While the blue flames leaped and crashed about them, while the ship shuddered in the grip of that hellish force, he carefully trained the disruptor gun on one spot on the great quartz shell. Steadily he loosed the stream of electrons, steadily he swerved the gun with the gyrations of the ship to cover the rapidly deepening pit as the deadly discharge pecked and pecked away.

  The Emperor looked up, saw the havoc. For the first time there was a gleam of fear in the hate-crazed eyes. The pressure increased, the blue death crashed and roared, but Al was not to be diverted. All his being was concentrated in breaking through that one point.

  The quartz was fusing, wearing thin. The Emperor saw the danger, sprang to a new machine. Al rubbed his eyes in amazement, gave vent to a great shout of jubilation.

  "By Jingo, he's licked. He's turning tail and running for it!"

  "We've won, boy, we've won!" Joe beat his friend's shoulder in an ecstasy of joy.

  "Not yet," came the grim reply.

  "Why, what do you mean?" demanded Joe. "Aren't we here, alive, unhurt. He's had enough, hasn't he?"

  "That's true enough. Better than I anticipated. But you forget what we set out to do; rid this universe of his evil tyranny. He's still alive, in full control of his forces. Unless you've had enough, I'm going after to finish him."

  "By Jove, you're right! Let's go. We've got him on the run."

  And so these indomitable Earthmen, not content with having successfully escaped almost inevitable doom, sent their vessel hurtling after the retreating menace. Rockets blazing, green flashing disruptor tube projecting its coruscating ray, the spheroid darted across the sky. Straight for the vast shell it plunged, straight into the fierce blue light.

  But the enemy was a beaten thing, his courage was gone. He could but turn and flee, rushing across the vast stretches of space, with the Earth ship darting after him, worrying, harrying. What a spectacle it was, this cosmic flight across infinite space, the great bulk streaking its mass across the empyrean, with the baffled Emperor crouched in a frenzy of agony on the platform, gazing ever backward at his pursuer, the midge darting after, plunging, biting, harrying, slicing, ever pecking away at the doomed spot.

  Did the Prostak scientists watch the transcendental spectacle in their powerful telescopes? If so, what joy there must have been in that world, what a waving of tentacles, what a shimmering procession of bright red glyphs across their strange communication disks! How that orange glowing air must have vibrated to emanations of joy and of thankfulness!

  The blue light was growing dim, the victory was almost complete. At last, with startling suddenness, the end came. A final roaring electronic stream, and the last thin layer of quartz buckled and broke. A blinding burst, and the great shell smashed into a million flying sparks. All space was filled with blazing, coruscating debris. The awed earth men caught a last glimpse of the doomed Emperor, his eyes filled with unutterable horror, and then—there was blackness, blessed unrelieved blackness. The Emperor of the Stars was dead!

  Joe shut off the rockets, Al released the trigger-lever of the ray. With unutterable thankfulness the two turned to one another, gripped hands in silent congratulation. Then, characteristically, the incident was closed.

  "What now? In this interstellar blackness, unrelieved by any stars, what will become of us? Seems like we've hopped from a burning plane to a blazing forest." Thus Al expressed it.

  "Pessimist as usual! After all we've gotten through so far my bet is that we'll get back home. Somehow I can't believe that after our miraculous escapes from the dangers that have threatened us since we found ourselves in this space, we are doomed to drift endlessly—"

  Joe was interrupted by a blinding flash of white light from without, a sudden violent lurch of the craft. Both men rushed to look without, to discover what new danger threatened them.

  A moment of stunned silence, the men looked at each other, then out again at—the stars! Stars, myriads of them! Softly, almost reverently, Al spoke.

  "Joe, look at the stars! Do you know what they are? The suns of our own space! There's Orion, there's Cassiopeia, there's Lyra, there's Old Sol! We're home again."

  True enou
gh. Dotting the blackness of interstellar space were the old familiar constellations. Billions of miles from Earth, yet the adventurers were back in known space, and fair and clear lay their route before them.

  "I can't understand it," Al, ever the scientist, pondered. "Wait, I have the glimmering of an idea. You remember, we were pulled out of our course by some attraction, pulled into that other space. Now, everything in that space repelled, save only the globule of the Emperor. When we destroyed that, its attraction was gone. Apparently forces from either world can make themselves felt in the other through the point of contact. With the stronger pull of the blue horror gone, the gravitational pull of the worlds in our own space took hold of us, and brought us back!"

  "By Jove, you know everything! Well, old croaker, here we are. Now get us back to old Earth pronto. I've got a hankering for a nice juicy sirloin steak, smothered in onions, and a great big schooner of beer! Then a good exciting teletalkie play, and a poker game with the bunch to wind up the evening!"

  The End

  **************************

  The Death-Cloud,

  by Arthur Leo Zagat & Nathan Schachner

  Astounding May 1931

  Novelette - 11361 words

  We sat, Eric Bolton and I, at a parapet table atop the 200-story General Aviation Building. The efficient robot waiter of the Sky Club had cleared away the remnants of an epicurean meal. Only a bowl of golden fruit remained—globes of nectar picked in the citrus groves of California that morning.

  My eye wandered over the scene spread before us, the vast piling of masonry that is New York. The dying beams of the setting sun glinted golden from the roofs of the pleasure palaces topping the soaring structures. Lower, amid interlacing archings of the mid-air thoroughfares, darkness had already piled its blackness. Two thousand feet below, in the region of perpetual night, the green-blue factory lights flared.