Don Pendleton's Science Fiction Collection, 3 Books Box Set, (The Guns of Terra 10; The Godmakers; The Olympians)

by Don Pendleton

  “Hey, you’re talking like a tunnel, aren’t you,” Hedge said, seeing a glimmer. “It’s like a mountain that’s a mile up and a mile down. A path over the mountain, from one side to the other, would be two miles long. Maybe the damn mountain is only half a mile thick. Dig a tunnel through, and you’re only going half a mile instead of two miles.”

  “Yes, Hedge, this is like same. And now, assume that you could run at speed of light, either over mountain or-”

  “Damn—damn!” Blue exclaimed. “That explains faster-than-light. FTL is only an apparent value.”

  “Right, this is right! Is relativity value. Speed of object is measured as time consumed between two points. Right?”

  “Right, damn right,” Blue said, highly enthused. “Okay, I got that picture, Zach. Now . . . you’re saying that a warp-speed is just tunneling through curved space instead of riding the curves. I got that.”

  “Me, too, I guess,” Hedge muttered. “But... how do you get into the warp? I mean ...”

  “Aha!” Whaleman said, obviously delighted with his pupils. “Now we arrive at what Tom Cole calls ‘the nutty butty.’ How to find real straight line through space. Recall earlier discussion of isolation shield? Zach explains energy repulsion within atom? This repulsion is caused by unobservable property of atom, is deeper dimension of atom, all atoms, everywhere. This deeper dimension is buffer, separates matter of atom from anti-matter of atom. Skronk?”

  “I think so,” said Blue. “Go on.”

  “This buffer is corridor, straight through atom.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is yeah. Solar system is giant atom, Hedge. Is have like same properties of atom, is have corridors also. Plus, corridors separate different solar systems, also galaxies. Universe is like giant Swiss cheese, is have corridors run everywhere.” He tapped the viewscreen. “Here is corridor, Andro to Solana. Here is where guns of Terra 10 must talk.”

  “This is spooky,” Stel breathed.

  “How does a gravcar find the warp,” Blue asked solemnly.

  “Gravcar creates warp, falls through.”

  “All right, how does it create the warp?”

  “This involves complicated physics, Blue, no time now to fully explain. Involves mass contraction of moving object, speed distortion of three-dimensional space. Gravity field of gravcar retards contraction although great three-dimension speed is attained. Result is that space surrounding gravcar suffers much greater distortion than does gravcar. Gravcar then enters first parallel corridor to open. This is principle.”

  “I’d like to learn more about it when we get more time.”

  “You will,” Zach assured him. He glanced again at the viewscreen. “For now, let us ‘put it all together,’ as you say. Let us give Terra 10 a grav drive that achieves warp speed.”

  “I’m game,” Hedge said. “How do we go about it?”

  “Go about first removing shielding from magnetherm core, one full quadrant; Then—”

  “Is that dangerous?”

  “Could be, precautions are possible. Then go about mating core to maneuvering system. Then go about mating isolation system to this, except isolation is reversed. Then go about altering isolation system for beam transmission instead of multi-directional broadcast. Then, maybe, Terra 10 is a gravcar.”

  “God, it sounds like a year’s work,” Hedge declared.

  “We have, at most, one Terran hour.”

  “Then I hope to God you know what you’re doing.”

  “Zach hopes to God also.” He rose quickly to his feet. “Come, we invade the machines.”

  In a matter of some fifty Terran minutes, a near-miracle of technology was produced by Zach Whaleman and his Reever assistants. The gunship Terra 10, designed only to function as a barely mobile space station, was transformed to a space greyhound, an inter-galactic dreadnaught capable of ranging farther and faster than man had ever dared dream. All this, however, was not immediately evident, not even to the minds which had conceived and engineered the triumph.

  Zach Whaleman was seated at the Command Console, Hedges/Bolsom at the Core Monitor to Whaleman’s right, and on the other side at the Communications Monitor was Fontainbleu/Oraskny. Stel Rogers/Brandt occupied the observatory, directly above Whaleman. Tom Cole and Sub- Gunner Rosslin shared a MAME gunport in the southern hemisphere. The interior communications net provided a personal inlet/outlet for each crewmember, allowing instantaneous transfer of information from any point to all points within the gunship.

  Blue reported, without looking up from his console, “Lot of stuff coming out of that corridor, just about everything in the electromagnetic spectrum.”

  Whaleman snapped, “Attempt isolate and analyze anything alien.”

  “Skronk. I got the machine working on a couple now.”

  Hedge said, “Core is at optimum, Zach. How’s our velocity?”

  “Disappointing, Hedge. Building too slowly.”

  “Aren’t we going to make it?”

  “If warp speed not attained in thirty seconds, I will initiate tumble.”

  “What’s that mean?” from Tom Cole.

  “Rotation along plane. Equatorial spin, Tom. Like Earth.”

  Stel said, “You mean we’re going to roll like a ball?”

  “Means this. No fear, Stel. Remember, down is toward core, up is toward skin. Even tumbling, this is true. Like same on Earth.”

  “What’ll that do?” Blue asked.

  “Time is now. Tumble initiated. Now we see what does, Blue. Should soon note forcefield buildup. Forget optimum now, Hedge. Give me Scale Four output.”

  “Skronk. Scale Four initiated. Coming up. Mark, core is Scale Four.”

  “Ah, ah, yes, is talking to Zach. Warp speed coming up. Stel, report plane declination.”

  “Minus three and depressing. Minus four... five ... holding at minus five.”

  Whaleman spoke into an analog computer. “Decline is minus five from apparent. Report corridor effect.”

  “Skronk,” came the whirring reply. “Standby...corridor effect positive, intersect solar access at one-one-three moments, net velocity FT1 2.4.”

  “Skronk,” Whaleman replied. His fingers danced along a line of buttons, then he grinned and spoke into the communicator. “Success, Terra 10 goes to war.”

  “At nearly two-and-a-half times the speed of light,” Blue’s awed tones added.

  Whaleman requested, “No speak now until solar access achieved.”

  “Zach’s flying this thing by the seat of his pants,” explained Tom Cole, quite unnecessarily.

  All aboard understood the makeshift nature of their navigation system. Two computers, an analog and a digital, were hooked in tandem to the juryrigged maneuvering system, which was in turn crossed with the isolation system, providing a rather crude guidance control. But the desired effect had been achieved. The isolation field was now an attracting field, capable of being beamed with pinpoint accuracy over a virtually infinite distance. Any large stellar body could be utilized as a focal field, and the velocity of the gunship was directly related to the strength of the attraction- field, which in turn was a direct product of the energies released by the gunship’s magnetherm core, which itself took its energies from the stellar fields. Whaleman had tapped and harnessed the energy potential of the universe.

  “Be ready,” Whaleman clipped tersely. “Moment approaching. Expect violent motion during wobble-turn, slowdown. Standby, Hedge. Give me Scale Three at mark, Scale Two at next mark, Optimum at third mark.”

  “Skronk.”

  Whaleman’s hands flew along the console buttons. He said, “Mark!” The gunship lurched, then smoothly stabilized. “Mark!” Another lurch, less violent, then, “Mark!”

  Tarra 10 was in the solar access corridor between Sol and Andro and executing a wide, sweeping turn up the million-mile-diameter barrel.

  Stel reported, “Ecliptic normal.”

  “I’ll never be normal again,” Tom Cole admitted, in a barely recognizab
le voice.

  “There’s some real odd wave energy all over the place,” Blue worriedly reported. “It does not analyze.”

  “Switching over to inertial,” Zach said. “Hedge, initiate isolation transfer. Restore core shielding. Gunmen, stand ready.”

  “Ships dead ahead!” Stel cried. “Swarms.”

  Whaleman energized the target screen. “Ours,” he said quickly. “Do not fire.”

  The Solani cruisers were moving downstream, counter to Terra 10’s movement. Whaleman punched in the inter-ship communicator just in time to receive a greeting from the flagship. “Is that Terra 10?” asked a strained human voice.

  “Affirmative,” Whaleman replied, “this is Reevercraft Terra 10. What is situation, Squadroneer?”

  “Situation poor, Gunner. What is this Reevercraft? Unskronk.”

  Whaleman grinned at Hedge and replied, “New class dreadnaught, Squadroneer. Reever planned and manned. Now assuming firstline station. Request briefing.”

  “Mars Squadron now null, plus Venus Squadron, Mercury Squadron. This is Jupiter Squadron plus stragglers first three named. Sixteen alien craft verified destroyed plus ten possibles. We are falling back to inner perimeter for regroup. Enemy also in regroup situation, but situation poor, Gunner. Is Terra 10 in defense posture?”

  “Affirmative. Terra 10 is on station and closing. This is Command. Skronk? Terra 10 assumes firstline. Squadrons will remain clear and hold at inner perimeter. Terra 10 guns are on manual-local control and human manned. Gunmen not versed in craft recognition, will fire on anything moving through defense envelope. Repeating, squadrons will remain clear, give Terra 10 firstline.”

  “Is this true, Gunner-Reevers manning guns of Terra 10?”

  “This is true, Squadroneer.”

  “The squadrons will remain clear, Gunner. Solan Slot belongs to Terra 10.”

  Blue cried, “Zach, I don’t like this wave energy!”

  Whaleman promptly moved a lever on his console and announced, “Isolation shield activated.”

  “That did it!” Blue exulted. “Radiation reception now negative! That shield really works, Zach. I was afraid we’d messed it up, screwing it around the way we did.”

  The Gunner smiled. “Observe target screen. Works also on physical masses.”

  Two of the retreating Solani cruisers, which had been straggling past the gunship had become suddenly displaced in space, from a position only a few miles abeam Terra 10, to a new location one thousand miles distant. Hedge grinned and said, “Whuup, lookout boys, low tunnel!”

  “Yes, is good example of curved space,” Whaleman pointed out.

  “Couldn’t they warp us, Zach?” Blue asked. “I mean, these aliens, if they understand—”

  “They understand,” Whaleman assured him. “But isolation shield is warp-lock, is manipulate space at maximum distortion.”

  Stel said, “Can I come down now? Can’t see a thing up here now.”

  Whaleman replied, “Yes, Stel, come down. All seeing now is at penetration frequency only. Gunsights, yes. Optics, no.”

  “It’s weird,” announced Tom Cole’s voice. “This gunsight is like a flashlight in a dark room.”

  Whaleman was peering intently at the target screen. “Stand ready, gunmen,” he ordered. “Solani squadrons now all clear. The slot belongs to Terra 10. Destroy all else.”

  “All I see is a lot of junk, debris,” declared an excited voice from a distant gunport.

  “We approach combat zone,” Whaleman explained. “Remember, gunmen, let target center in gunsight. All targets are valid.”

  Stel shivered and leaned against Whaleman. “All those poor men out there, or whatever they are . . . beings. Maybe they have anxious women waiting for them, somewhere, wherever they came from.”

  “No beings,” Whaleman murmured. “No women, also. Alien craft fully automated, no life forms aboard.”

  “We’re fighting nothing but a bunch of machines, Stel,” Blue said softly.

  “Boobs,” Whaleman said, smiling grimly. “Is natural enemy of man, is not?”

  “You can say that loudly, brother Whaleman!” Tom Cole commented from his polar gunport. “And I think I’m gettin’ a target. Lookit this thing here, Eva girl, and tell me what I’m gettin’.”

  “This is target, Tom Cole,” a soft-crisp voice replied. “Is your honor, King Tom, first shot from Terra 10. Range is . . . point eight eight million. Hold until centerlined. Remember, we tumble.”“Gotcha. Here’s a big loud word for mankind. Mars! I can feel the energy tingling my hand. Good God of all the stars! Can the rest of you see that bolt? Great spinning Mars—I didn’t know I could speak that loud!”

  A superagitated release of gamma rays had instantaneously found their programmed path from Tom Cole’s paired batteries through the protectively warped space surrounding the gunship; from the forward wall of the defense shield, the two sizzling beams arced into the blackness of space like interstellar lightning. The beam from the matter-emitter was focalizing the loosely scattered particles of deepspace matter, pulling them into the attracting path of sheer energy, cannibalizing the atoms, stripping them, releasing the stored energy of the particles and adding that energy to its own content—thus, the beam fed on space itself and geometrically increased its strength as it travelled.

  The companion beam from the antimatter-emitter performed in an identical manner, though gathering and releasing the stored energy of anti-particles. The paired beams Annihilated space between the gunship and its target as the gamma rays streaked across the void, coming together at the point of impact upon the alien craft. When the two fantastically charged rays of incompatible energies met at the target, the great disc from another world glowed momentarily with a brilliant incandescence as its atoms trembled under the assault of nuclear reaction. As the nuclei split under the bombardment of hyperfission, the glow flashed into instant annihilation of the matter composing the craft, and the alien ship simply ceased to be.

  Tom Cole released the firing button, sucked in . his breath, and leaned closer into the gunsight. “Where’d it go?” he said in a hushed voice.

  Subgunner Rosslin murmured, “Is spacedust, Tom.”

  Up in the command cabin, Blue commented, “Ashes to ashes, and dust to ... ” His words choked under a quiet emotion and he bent over his console as other guns began their monologue of destruction.

  The gleaming sphere that was Terra 10 was rotating slowly on her poles and sweeping along the Solar-Andron slot at dead center, her primary batteries reaching out to ream the entire corridor along the path of advance, like a cleaning brush in a giant gun barrel. As the range closed between the opposing forces, the monologue became a dialogue as the invaders responded. Swarms of alien craft, great whirling discs in precise combat formation, were speeding along the corridor to meet the giant sphere and sending out impressive streamers of explosive energies in beams extending thousands of miles in advance. These beams did not deflect from the isolation shield of Terra 10, but seemed to react with the gunship’s energy field, exploding into great towering balls of flame at the outer perimeter of the shield.

  Whaleman was anxiously watching the results in his viewscreen. He began feeding data into the analog computer. Stel, standing beside him, flinched with each challenge to the gunship’s shield, her eyes widely staring at the mushrooming energies building up along their forward wall. Whaleman turned to Blue and said, “Advise immediate any traces wave indications.”

  Blue replied, “Skronk.”

  Whaleman snapped, “Hedge, increase to Scale Two. Velocity diminishes!”

  “Skronk. Scale Two ... mark. What’s doing it, Zach?”

  Whaleman frowned worriedly. “Enemy salvos not piercing, also not deflecting. Energy masses build up. Inertial law, Hedge. Motion of moving body remains constant until impressed by opposing forces. These energies are make impressing force, like brake, like atmosphere to dense-air craft.”

  “AGRADs, stand ready!” Subgunner Rosslin commanded
into the intercom.

  Blue-fidgeted and remarked, “Too many are getting past the MAMEs, Zach. Can those AGRADs handle them?”

  Before the Gunner could reply to Blue’s query, Hedge cried, “Scale Two isn’t doing it, Zach!”

  “Scale Three!”

  “Skronk! Corning up on Scale Three ... mark! But she’s not steady!”

  Stel murmured, “They’re throwing up a wall out there. That’s what they’re doing. What happens if they stop us?”

  “Stop not necessary,” Whaleman replied worriedly.

  Blue explained, “All they have to do is slow us below warp speed. Then we’ll lose the corridor, and it’ll be all theirs.”

  Stel’s fingers dug into Whaleman’s shoulder. “Well, let’s go faster,” she urged.

  Whaleman shook his head. “Guns also use core energies. Core now suffers severe strain.”

  Tom Cole roared, “Mars, it’s like going after an anthill with a hatchet! Lookit them Boobs stunting around out there!”

  “Yes, Tom, Zach watches. Analog also watches. If pattern emerges, these stunts will defeat Boobs.”

  “Just lemme know when you figure it out!”

  Hedge asked, “What’s he talking about?”

  Whaleman was busy with the analog computer. Stel pointed to the viewscreen. “Just watch them,” she said in a hushed voice.

  The enemy vehicles were apparently capable of lightning-quick lateral displacements, an entire formation disappearing from one field and reappearing instantly in a greatly displaced parallel field. It was proving to be an effective tactic; the Reever gunners were missing more than they were hitting.

  Whaleman looked up from the analog and spoke into the intercom. “Rosslin, closing range now below MAME minimums, lead vehicles. Plus, enemy batteries impede Terra 10’s progress. Gunnery score must improve.”

  The Subgunner replied, “Skronk. Secondary batteries activated.”

  Tom Cole’s big voice filled the intercom. “You Reeves on the AGRADS, did you hear that? How many you people ever been boobed? How many of you ever had a Boob in a gunsight before? I hope to crying Mars you’re not letting any of them out of your gunsights in one piece! Huh?”