E.E. 'Doc' Smith SF Gateway Omnibus: The Skylark of Space, Skylark Three, Skylark of Valeron, Skylark DuQuesne

by E. E. 'Doc' Smith

  Even as they watched, one of the spheres, unable for some reason to maintain its screens or overcome by the awful forces playing upon it, flared from white into and through violet and was hurled upward as though shot from the mouth of some Brobdingnagian howitzer. A door opened, and from its flaming interior four figures leaped out into the air, followed by a puff of orange-colored smoke. At the first sign of trouble the ship next to it in line leaped in front of it and the four figures floated gently to the ground, supported by friendly attractors and protected from enemy weapons by the bulk and by the screens of the rescuing vessel Two great airships soared upward from back of the lines and hauled the disabled vessel to the ground by means of their powerful attractors. The two observers saw with amazement that after brief attention from an ant-like ground-crew the original four men climbed back into their warship and she again shot into the fray, apparently as good as ever.

  ‘What do you know about that!’ exclaimed DuQuesne. ‘That gives me an idea, Loring. They must get to them that way fairly often, to judge by the teamwork they use when it does happen. How about waiting until they disable another one like that, and then grabbing it while it is in the air, deserted and unable to fight back? One of those ships is worth a thousand of this one, even if we had everything known to the Osnomians mounted on it.’

  ‘That’s a real idea – those boats certainly are brutes for punishment,’ agreed Loring, and as both men again settled down to watch the battle he went on: ‘So this is war out this way? You’re right. Seaton, with half this stuff, could whip the combined armies and navies of the world. I don’t blame Brookings much, though, at that – nobody could believe half of this unless they could actually see it.’

  ‘I can’t understand it,’ DuQuesne frowned as he considered the situation. ‘The attackers are Kondalians, all right – those ships are developments of the Skylark – but I don’t get that fort at all. Wonder if it can be the strangers already? Don’t think so – they aren’t due for a couple of years yet, and I don’t think the Kondalians could stand against them a minute. It must be what is left of Mardonale, although I never heard of anything like that. Probably it is some new invention they dug up at the last minute. That’s it, I guess,’ and his brow cleared. ‘It couldn’t be anything else.’

  They waited long for the incident to be repeated, and finally their patience was rewarded. When the next vessel was disabled and hurled upward by the concentration of enemy forces DuQuesne darted down, seized it with his most powerful attractor, and whisked it away into space at such a velocity that to the eyes of the Kondalians it simply disappeared. He took the disabled warship far out into space and allowed it to cool off for a long time before deciding that it was safe to board it. Through the transparent walls they could see no sign of life, and DuQuesne donned a space-suit and steeped into the airlock. As Loring held the steel vessel close to the stranger, DuQuesne leaped lightly through the open door into the interior. Shutting the door, he opened an auxiliary air-tank, adjusting the gauge to one atmosphere as he did so. The pressure normal, he divested himself of the suit and made a thorough examination of the vessel. He then signalled Loring to follow him, and soon both ships were over Kondal, so high as to be invisible from the ground. Plunging the vessel like a bullet toward the grove in which he had left the Kondalian airship, he slowed abruptly just in time to make a safe landing. As he stepped out upon Osnomian soil Loring landed the Earthly ship hardly less skillfully.

  ‘This saves us a lot of trouble, Loring. This is undoubtedly one of the finest spaceships of the universe, and just about ready for anything.’

  ‘How did they get to it?’

  ‘One of the screen generators apparently weakened a trifle, probably from weeks of continuous use. That let some of the stuff come through, everything got hot, and the crew had to jump or roast. Nothing is hurt, though, as the ship was thrown up and out of range before the arenak melted at all. The copper repellors are gone, of course, and most of the bars that were in use are melted down, but there is enough of the main bar left to drive the ship and we can replace the melted stuff easily enough. Nothing else was hurt, as there’s absolutely nothing in the structure of these vessels that can be burned. Even the insulation in the coils and generators has a melting-point higher than that of porcelain. And not all the copper was melted, either. Some of these storerooms are lined with two feet of insulation and are piled full of bars and explosive ammunition.’

  ‘What was the smoke we saw, then?’

  ‘That was their food-supply. It’s cooked to an ash, and their water was all boiled away through the safety-valves. Those machines certainly can put out a lot of heat in a second or two!’

  ‘Can the two of us put on those copper repellor-bands? This ship must be seventy-five feet in diameter.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a lot bigger than the Skylark was. It’s one of their latest models, or it wouldn’t have been on the front line. As to banding on the repellors – that’s easy. That airship is half full of metal-working machinery that can do everything but talk. I know how to use most of it, from seeing it in use, and we can figure out the rest.’

  In that unfrequented spot there was little danger of detection from the air, and none whatever of detection from the ground – of ground-travel upon Osnome there is practically none. Nevertheless, the two men camouflaged the vessels so that they were visible only to keen and direct scrutiny, and drove their task through to completion in the shortest possible time. The copper repellors were banded on, and much additional machinery was installed in the already well-equipped shop. This done, they transferred to their warship food, water, bedding, instruments, and everything else they needed or wanted from their own ship and from the disabled Kondalian airship. They made a last tour of inspection to be sure they had overlooked nothing useful, then embarked.

  ‘Think anybody will find those ships? They could get a good line on what we’ve done.’

  ‘Probably, eventually, so we’d better destroy them. We’d better take a short hop first, though, to test everything out. Since you’re not familiar with the controls of a ship of this type, you need practice. Shoot us up around that moon over there and bring us back to this spot.’

  ‘She’s a sweet-handling boat – easy like a bicycle,’ declared Loring as he brought the vessel lightly to a landing upon their return. ‘We can burn the old one up now. We’ll never need her again, any more than a snake needs his last year’s skin.’

  ‘She’s good, all right. Those two hulks must be put out of existence, but we shouldn’t do it here. The beams would set the woods afire, and the metal would condense all around. We don’t want to leave any tracks, so we’d better pull them out into space to destroy them. We could turn them loose, but as you’ve never worked a ray-gun it’ll be good practice for you. Also, I want you to see for yourself just what our best armor-plate amounts to compared with arenak.’

  When they had towed the two vessels far out into space Loring put into practice the instruction he had received from DuQuesne concerning the complex armament of their vessel. He swung the beam-projector upon the Kondalian airship; pressed three buttons. In little more than a second the entire hull became blinding white, but it was several more seconds before the extremely refractory material began to volatilize. Though the metal was less than an inch thick, it retained its shape and strength stubbornly, and only slowly did it disappear in flaming, flaring gusts of incandescent gas.

  ‘There, you’ve seen what an inch of arenak is like,’ said DuQuesne when the destruction was complete. ‘Now shine it on that sixty-inch chrome-vanadium armor hull of our old bus and see what happens.’

  Loring did so. As the beam touched it the steel disappeared in one flare of radiance – as he swung the projector in one flashing arc from the stem to the stern there was nothing left. Loring, swinging the beam, whistled in amazement.

  ‘Wow! What a difference! And this ship of ours has a skin of arenak six feet thick!’

  ‘Yes. Now you understand wh
y I didn’t want to argue with anybody out here as long as we were in our own ship.’

  ‘I understand that, all right; but I can’t understand the power of these machines. Suppose I had had all twenty of them on instead of only three?’

  ‘In that case, I think that we could have whipped even the short, thick strangers.’

  ‘You and me both. But say, every ship’s got to have a name. This new one of ours is such a sweet, harmless, inoffensive little thing, we’d better name her the Violet, hadn’t we?’

  DuQuesne started the Violet off in the direction of the solar system occupied by the warlike strangers, but he did not hurry. He and Loring practiced incessantly for days at the controls, darting here and there, putting on terrific acceleration until the indicators showed a velocity of hundreds of thousands of miles per second, then reversing the acceleration until the velocity was zero, or even negative. They studied the controls and alarm system until each knew perfectly every instrument, every tiny light, and the tone of each bell. They practiced with the projectors and generators, singly and in combination, with the visiplates, and with the many levers and dials, until each was so familiar with the complex installation that his handling of every control had become automatic. Not until then did DuQuesne give the word to start out in earnest toward their goal, such an unthinkable distance away.

  They had not been under way long when an alarm bell sounded its warning and a brilliant green light began flashing upon the board.

  ‘Hm … m,’ DuQuesne frowned as he reversed the bar. ‘Outside atomic energy detector. Somebody’s using power out here. Direction, about dead ahead – straight down. Let’s see if we can see anything.’

  He swung number six, the telescopic visiplate, into the lower area and both men stared into the receiver. After a long time they saw a sudden sharp flash, apparently an immense distance ahead, and simultaneously three more alarm bells rang and three colored lights flashed briefly.

  ‘Somebody got quite a jolt then. Three forces in action at once for three or four seconds,’ reported DuQuesne, as he applied still more negative acceleration.

  ‘I’d like to know what this is all about!’ he exclaimed after a time, as they saw a subdued glow, which lasted a minute or two. As the warning light was flashing more and more slowly and with diminishing intensity, the Violet was once more put upon her course. As she proceeded, however, the warnings of the liberation of atomic energy grew stronger and stronger, and both men scanned their path intensely for a sight of the source of the disturbance, while their velocity was cut to only a few hundred miles per hour. Suddenly the indicator swerved and pointed behind them, showing that they had passed the object, whatever it was. DuQuesne applied power and snapped on a searchlight.

  ‘If it’s so small that we couldn’t see it when we passed it, it’s nothing to be afraid of. We’ll be able to find it with a light.’

  After some search, they saw an object floating in space – a space-suit!

  ‘Shall one of us get in the airlock, or shall we bring it in with an attractor?’ asked Loring.

  ‘An attractor, by all means. Two or three of them – repellors, too – to spread-eagle whatever it is. Never take any chances. It’s probably an Osnomian, but you never can tell. It may be one of those other people. We know they were around here a few weeks ago, and they’re the only ones I know of that have atomic power besides us and the Osnomians.

  ‘That’s no Osnomian,’ he continued as the stranger was drawn into the airlock. ‘He’s big enough around for four Osnomians, and not tall enough. We’ll take no chances at all with that fellow.’

  The captive was brought into the control room, pinioned head, hand, and foot with attractors and repellors, before DuQuesne approached him. He then read the temperature and pressure of the stranger’s air-supply, and allowed the surplus air to escape slowly before removing the stranger’s suit and revealing one of the Fenachrone – eyes closed, unconscious or dead.

  DuQuesne leaped for the educator and handed Loring a headset.

  ‘Put this on quick. He may be only unconscious, and we might not be able to get a thing from him if he were awake.’

  Loring donned the headset, still staring at the monstrous form with amazement, not unmixed with awe, while DuQuesne, paying no attention to anything except the knowledge he was seeking, manipulated the controls of the instrument. His first quest was for full information concerning weapons and armament. In this he was disappointed, as he learned that the stranger was one of the navigating engineers, and as such, had no detailed knowledge of the matters of prime importance to the inquisitor. He did have a complete knowledge of the marvellous Fenachrone propulsion system, however, and this DuQuesne carefully transferred to his own brain. He then rapidly explored other regions of that fearsome organ of thought.

  As the gigantic and inhuman brain was spread before them DuQuesne and Loring read not only the language, customs, and culture of the Fenachrone, but all their plans for the future, as well as the events of the past. Plainly in his mind they perceived how he had been cast adrift in the emptiness of the void. They saw the Fenachrone cruiser lying in wait for the two globular vessels. Looking through an extraordinarily powerful telescope with the eyes of their prisoner they saw them approach, all unsuspecting. DuQuesne recognized all five persons in the Skylark and Dunark and Sitar in the Kondal, such was that unearthly optical instrument and so clear was the impression upon the mind before him. They saw the attack and the battle. They saw the Skylark throw off her zone of force and attack; saw this one survivor standing directly in line with a huge projector-spring, under thousands of pounds of tension. They saw the spring cut in two by the zone. The severed end, flying free, struck the being upon the side of the head, and the force of the blow, only partially blocked by the heavy helmet, hurled him out through the yawning gap in the wall and hundreds of miles out into space.

  Suddenly the clear view of the brain of the Fenachrone became blurred and meaningless and the flow of knowledge ceased – the prisoner had regained consciousness and was trying with all his gigantic strength to break away from those intangible bonds that held him. So powerful were the forces upon him, however, that only a few twitching muscles gave evidence that he was struggling at all. Glancing about him, he recognized the attractors and repellors bearing upon him, ceased his efforts to escape, and hurled the full power of his baleful gaze into the black eyes so close to his own. But DuQuesne’s mind, always under perfect control and now amply reinforced by a considerable portion of the stranger’s own knowledge and power, did not waver under the force of even that hypnotic glare.

  ‘It is useless, as you observe,’ he said coldly, in the stranger’s own tongue, and sneered. ‘You are perfectly helpless. Unlike you of the Fenachrone, however, men of my race do not always kill strangers at sight, merely because they are strangers. I will spare your life if you can give me anything of enough value to me to make the extra time and trouble worthwhile.’

  ‘You read my mind while I could not resist your childish efforts. I will have no traffic whatever with you who have destroyed my vessel. If you have mentality enough to understand any portion of my mind – which I doubt – you already know the fate in store for you. Do with me what you will.’

  DuQuesne pondered long before he replied; considering whether or not it was to his advantage to inform this stranger of the facts of the case. Finally he decided.

  ‘Sir, neither I nor this vessel had anything to do with the destruction of your warship. Our detectors discovered you floating in empty space; we stopped and rescued you from death. We have seen nothing else save what we saw pictured in your own brain. I know that, in common with all of your race, you possess neither conscience nor honor, as we understand the terms. An automatic liar by instinct and training whenever you think lies will best serve your purpose, you may yet have intelligence enough to recognize simple truth when you hear it. You already have observed that we are of the same race as those who destroyed your vessel, and have as
sumed that we are with them. In that you are wrong. It is true that I am acquainted with those others, but they are my enemies. I am here to kill them, not to aid them. You have already helped me in one way – I know as much as does my enemy concerning the impenetrable shield of force. If I will return you unharmed to your own planet, will you assist me in stealing one of your ships of space, so that I may destroy that Earth-vessel?’

  The Fenachrone, paying no attention to DuQuesne’s barbed comments concerning his honor and veracity, did not hesitate an instant in his reply.

  ‘I will not. We supermen of the Fenachrone will allow no vessel of ours, with its secrets unknown to any others of the universe, to fall into the hands of any of the lesser breeds of man.’

  ‘Well, you didn’t try to lie that time, anyway. But think a minute. Seaton, my enemy, already has one of your vessels – don’t think he is too much of a fool to put it back together and to learn its every secret. Then, too, remember that I have your mind, and can get along without you; even though I am willing to admit that you could be of enough help to me so that I would save your life in exchange for that help. Also, remember that, superman though you may be, your mentality cannot cope with the forces I have bearing upon you. Neither will your being a superman enable your body to retain life after I have thrown you out into space without your armor.’

  ‘I have the normal love of life; but some things cannot be done, even with life at stake. Stealing a vessel of the Fenachrone is one of those things. I can, however, do this much – if you will return me to my own planet, you two shall be received as guests aboard one of our vessels and shall be allowed to witness the vengeance of the Fenachrone upon your enemy. Then you shall be returned to your vessel and allowed to depart unharmed.’

  ‘Now you are lying by rote – I know just what you’d do. Get that idea out of your head right now. The attractors now holding you will not be released until after you have paid your way. Then, and then only, will I try to discover a way of returning you to your own world without risking my own neck. Incidentally, I warn you that your first attempt to play false with me in any way will also be your last.’