_CHAPTER EIGHTEEN_
Jupiter and the Jovian worlds leaped suddenly backward, turned swiftlygreen, then blue, and faded in an instant into violet. The Sun spuncrazily through space, retreating, dimming to a tiny ruby-tinted star.
The giant generators in the _Invincible_ hummed louder now, continuallylouder, a steel-throated roar that trembled through every plate, throughevery girder, through every bit of metal in the ship.
The ship itself was plunging spaceward, streaking like a runaway starfor the depths of space beyond the Solar System. And behind it, caughttight, gripped and held, Craven's ship trailed at the end of a tractorfield that bound it to the space-rocketing _Invincible_.
The acceleration compensator, functioning perfectly, had taken up theslack as the ship had plunged from a standing start into a speed thatneared the pace of light. But it had never been built to stand suchsudden, intense acceleration, and for an instant Russ and Greg seemedto be crushed by a mighty weight that struck at them. The sensationswiftly lifted as the compensator took up the load.
* * * * *
Greg shook his head, flinging the trickling perspiration from his eyes.
"I hope their compensator worked as well as ours," he said.
"If it didn't," declared Russ, "we're towing a shipload of dead men."
Russ glanced at the speed dial. They were almost touching the speed oflight. "He hasn't cut down our speed yet."
"We threw him off his balance. His drive depends largely on the mass ofsome planet as a body to take up the reaction of his ship. Jupiter isthe ideal body for that ... but he's leaving Jupiter behind. He has todo something soon or it'll be too late."
"He's getting less energy, too," said Russ. "We're retreating from hismain sources of energy, the Sun and Jupiter. Almost the speed of lightand that would cut down his energy intake terrifically. He has to usewhat he's got in his accumulators, and after that last blast at us, theymust be nearly drained."
As Russ watched, the speed needle fell off slightly. Russ held hisbreath. It edged back slowly, creeping. The speed was being cut down.
"Craven is using whatever power he has," he said. "They're alive backthere, all right. He's trying to catch hold of Jupiter and make itsgravity work for him."
The _Invincible_ felt the strain of the other ship now. Felt it asCraven poured power into his drive, fighting to get free of theinvisible hawser that had trapped him, fighting against being draggedinto outer space at the tail-end of a mighty craft heading spacewardwith frightening speed.
Girders groaned in the _Invincible_, the engines moaned and throbbed.The speed needle fell back, creeping down the dial, slowly, unwillingly,resisting any drop in speed. But Craven was cutting it down. And as hecut it, he was able to absorb more energy with his collector lens. Buthe was fighting two things ... momentum and the steadily decreasinggravitational pull of Jupiter and the Sun. The Sun's pull was dwindlingslowly, Jupiter's rapidly.
The needle still crept downward.
"What's his point of equality to us?" demanded Greg. "Will we make it?"
Russ shook his head. "Won't know for hours. He'll be able to slow usup ... maybe he'll even stop us or be able to jerk free, although Idoubt that. But every minute takes him farther away from his main sourceof power, the Solar System's radiation. He could collect power anywherein space, you know, but the best place to collect it is near largeradiant bodies."
Russ continued to crouch over the dial, begrudging every backwardflicker of the needle.
This was the last play, the final hand. If they could drag Craven andhis ship away from the Solar System, maroon him deep in space, farremoved from any source of radiation, they would win, for they could goback and finish the work of smashing Interplanetary.
But if Craven won--if he could halt their mad dash for space, if hecould shake free--they'd never have another chance. He would be studyingthat field they had wrapped around him, be ready for it next time, mighteven develop one like it and use it on the _Invincible_. If Craven couldwin his way back to the Sun, he would be stronger than they were, couldtop them in power, shatter all their plans, and once again the worldswould bow to Interplanetary and Spencer Chambers.
Russ watched the meter. The speed was little more than ten miles asecond now and dropping rapidly. He sat motionless, hunched, sucking athis dead pipe, listening to the thrumming of the generators.
* * * * *
"If we only had a margin," he groaned. "If we just had a few morehorsepower. Just a few. But we're wide open. Every engine is developingeverything it can!"
Greg tapped him on the shoulder, gently. Russ turned his head and lookedinto the face of his friend, a face as bleak as ever, but with a hint ofsmile in the corners of the eyes.
"Why not let Jupiter help us?" he asked. "He could be a lot of help."
Russ stared for a moment, uncomprehending. Then with a sob of gladnesshe reached out a hand, shoved over a lever. Mirrors of anti-entropyshifted, assumed different angles, and the _Invincible_ sheered off.They were no longer retreating directly from the Sun, but at an anglequartering off across the Solar System.
Greg grinned. "We're falling behind Jupiter now. Letting Jupiter runaway from us as he circles his orbit, following the Sun. Adds miles persecond to our velocity of retreat, even if it doesn't show on the dial."
The cosmic tug of war went on, grimly--two ships straining, fightingeach other, one seeking to escape, the other straining to snake thesecond ship into the maw of open, hostile space.
The speed was down to five miles a second, then a fraction lower. Theneedle was flickering now, impossible to decide whether it was droppingor not. And in the engine rooms, ten great generators howled in theirattempt to make that needle move up the dial again.
Russ lit his pipe, his eyes not leaving the dial. The needle wascreeping lower again. Down to three miles a second now.
He puffed clouds of smoke and considered. Saturn fortunately was ninetydegrees around in his orbit. On the present course, only Neptuneremained between them and free space. Pluto was far away, but even if ithad been, it really wouldn't count, for it was small and had littleattraction.
In a short while Ganymede and Callisto would be moving around on the farside of Jupiter and that might help. Everything counted so much now.
The dial was down to two miles a second and there it hung. Hung andstayed. Russ watched it with narrowed eyes. By this time Cravencertainly would have given up much hope of help from Jupiter. If the bigplanet couldn't have helped him before, it certainly couldn't now. Inanother hour or two Earth would transit the Sun and that would cut downthe radiant energy to some degree. But in the meantime Craven wasloading his photo-cells and accumulators, was laying up a power reserve.As a last desperate resort he would use that power, in a final attemptto break away from the _Invincible_.
Russ waited for that attempt. There was nothing that could be done aboutit. The engines were developing every watt of power that could be urgedout of them. If Craven had the power to break away, he would breakaway ... that was all there would be to it.
An hour passed and the needle crept up a fraction of a point. Russ wasstill watching the dial, his mind foggy with concentration.
* * * * *
Suddenly the _Invincible_ shuddered and seemed to totter in space, as ifsomething, some mighty force, had struck the ship a terrific blow. Theneedle swung swiftly backward, reached one mile a second, dipped to halfa mile.
Russ sat bolt upright, holding his breath, his teeth clenched with deathgrip upon the pipe-stem.
Craven had blasted with everything he had! He had used every lasttrickle of power in the accumulators ... all the power he had beenstoring up.
Russ leaped from the chair and raced to the periscopic mirror.Stooping, he stared into it. Far back in space, like a silver bauble,swung Craven's ship. It swung back and forth in space, like a mighty,cosmic pendulum. Breathlessly he watched. The ship was
still in the gripof the space field!
"Greg," he shouted, "we've got him!"
He raced back to the control panel, snapped a glance at the speed dial.The needle was rising rapidly now, a full mile a second. Within anotherfifteen minutes, it had climbed to a mile and a half. The _Invincible_was starting to go places!
The engines still howled, straining, shrieking, roaring their defiance.
In an hour the needle indicated the speed of four miles a second. Twohours later it was ten and rising visibly as Jupiter fell far behind andthe Sun became little more than a glowing cinder.
Russ swung the controls to provide side acceleration and the two shipsswung far to the rear of Neptune. They would pass that massive planet atthe safe distance of a full hundred million miles.
"He won't even make a pass at it," said Greg. "He knows he's licked."
"Probably trying to store some more power," suggested Russ.
"Sweet chance he has to do that," declared Greg. "Look at that needlewalk, will you? We'll hit the speed of light in a few more hours andafter that he may just as well shut off his lens. There just won't beany radiation for him to catch."
Craven didn't make a try at Neptune. The planet was far away when theyintersected its orbit ... furthermore, a wall of darkness had closed inabout the ships. They were going three times as fast as light and thespeed was still accelerating!
Hour after hour, day after day, the _Invincible_ and its trailingcaptive sped doggedly outward into space. Out into the absolute wastesof interstellar space, where the stars were flecks of light, like tinyeyes watching from very far away.
* * * * *
Russ lounged in the control chair and stared out the vision plate. Therewas nothing to see, nothing to do. There hadn't been anything to see ordo for days. The controls were locked at maximum and the engines stillhammered their roaring song of speed and power. Before them stretched anempty gulf that probably never before had been traversed by anyintelligence, certainly not by man.
Out into the mystery of interstellar space. Only it didn't seemmysterious. It was very commonplace and ordinary, almost monotonous.Russ gripped his pipe and chuckled.
There had been a day when men had maintained one couldn't go faster thanlight. Also, men had claimed that it would be impossible to force natureto give up the secret of material energy. But here they were, speedingalong faster than light, their engines roaring with the power ofmaterial energy.
They were plowing a new space road, staking out a new path across thedeserts of space, pioneering far beyond the 'last frontier.'
Greg's steps sounded across the room. "We've gone a long way, Russ.Maybe we better begin to slow down a bit."
"Yes," agreed Russ. He leaned forward and grasped the controls. "We'llslow down now," he said.
Sudden silence smote the ship. Their ears, accustomed for days to thethroaty roarings of the engines, rang with the torture of no sound.
Long minutes and then new sounds began to be heard ... the soft hummingof the single engine that provided power for the interior apparatus andthe maintenance of the outer screens.
"Soon as we slow down below the speed of light," said Greg, "we'll throwthe televisor on Craven's ship and learn what we can about hisapparatus. No use trying it now, for we couldn't use it, because we'rein the same space condition it uses in normal operation."
"In fact," laughed Russ, "we can't do much of anything except move.Energies simply can't pass through this space we're in. We're marooned."
Greg sat down in a chair, gazed solemnly at Russ.
"Just what was our top speed?" he demanded.
Russ grinned. "Ten thousand times the speed of light," he said.
Greg whistled soundlessly. "A long way from home."
* * * * *
Far away, the stars were tiny pinpoints, like little crystals shining bythe reflection of a light. Pinpoints of light and shimmering masses oflacy silver ... star dust that seemed ghostly and strange, but was inreality the massing of many million mighty stars. And great empty blackspaces where there was not a single light, where the dark went on and onand did not stop.
Greg exhaled his breath softly. "Well, we're here."
"Wherever that might be," amended Russ.
There were no familiar constellations, not a single familiar star. Everysign post of the space they had known was wiped out.
"There really aren't any brilliant stars," said Russ. "None at all. Wemust be in a sort of hole in space, a place that's relatively empty ofany stars."
Greg nodded soberly. "Good thing we have those mechanical shadows.Without them we'd never find our way back home. But we have several thatwill lead us back."
Outside the vision panel, they could see Craven's ship. Freed now of thespace field, it was floating slowly, still under the grip of themomentum they had built up in their dash across space. It was so closethat they could see the lettering across its bow.
"So they call it the _Interplanetarian_," said Russ.
Greg nodded. "Guess it's about time we talk to them. I'm afraid they'regetting pretty nervous."
* * * * *
"Do you have any idea where we are?" demanded Ludwig Stutsman.
Craven shook his head. "No more idea than you have. Manning snaked usacross billions of miles, clear out of the Solar System intointerstellar space. Take a look at those stars and you get some idea."
Spencer Chambers stroked his gray mustache, asked calmly: "What do youfigure our chances are of getting back?"
"That's something we'll know more about later," said Craven. "Doesn'tlook too bright right now. I'm not worrying about that. What I'mwondering about is what Manning and Page are going to do now that theyhave us out here."
"I thought you'd be," said a voice that came out of clear air.
They stared at the place from which the voice had seemed to come. Therewas a slight refraction in the air; then, swiftly, a man took shape. Itwas Manning. He stood before them, smiling.
"Hello, Manning," said Craven. "I figured you'd pay us a call when yougot around to it."
"Look here," snarled Stutsman, but he stopped when Chambers' hand fellupon his shoulder, gripped it hard.
"Got plenty of air?" asked Greg.
"Air? Sure. Atmosphere machines working perfectly," Craven replied.
"Fine," said Greg. "How about food and water? Plenty of both?"
"Plenty," said Craven.
"Look here, Manning," broke in Chambers, "where's all this questioningleading? What have you got up your sleeve?"
"Just wanted to be sure," Greg told him. "Would hate to have you fellowsstarve on me, or go thirsty. Wouldn't want to come back and find you alldead."
"Come back?" asked Chambers wonderingly. "I'm afraid I don't understand.Is this a joke of some sort?"
"No joke," said Greg grimly. "I thought you might have guessed. I'mgoing to leave you here."
"Leave us here?" roared Stutsman.
"Keep your shirt on," snapped Greg. "Just for a while, until we can goback to the Solar System and finish a little job we're doing. Then we'llcome back and get you."
Craven grimaced. "I thought it would be something like that." Hesquinted at Manning through the thick lenses. "You never miss a bet, doyou?"
Greg laughed. "I try not to."
A little silence fell upon the three men and Manning's image.
Greg broke it. "How about your energy collector?" he asked Craven. "Willit maintain the ship out here? You get cosmic rays. Not too much else,I'm afraid."
Craven grinned wryly. "You're right, but we can get along. Theaccumulators are practically drained, though, and we won't be able tostore anything. Would you mind shooting us over just a little power?Enough to charge the accumulators a little for emergency use."
He looked over his shoulder, almost apprehensively.
"There might be an emergency out here, you know. Nobody knows anythingabout this place."
> "I'll give you a little power," Greg agreed.
"Thank you very much," said Craven, half in mockery. "No doubt you thinkyourself quite smart, Manning, getting us out here. You know you have usstranded, that we can't collect more than enough power to live on."
"That's why I did it," Greg said, and vanished.
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