That became his destination. The Kyrian’s keen understanding of psychology aided him in understanding what had happened during his unconsciousness. Placing himself in the respective positions of Thordred and Stephen Court, he applied rules of logic.
When Court had entered the golden space ship and found the cataleptic bodies, he would naturally have tried to awaken them. When he awoke Thordred, what had happened?
There were two possibilities. Thordred, Ardath realized now, wanted power above all else. He had resented the Kyrian’s domination. After apparently succeeding in killing his former master, he would not have been willing to obey Court. Rather, his lust for power would have been given fresh fuel.
He and Court would have become either enemies or friends. In the latter case, Ardath now faced two opponents. But why should Court, having built this ingenious and expensive space ship, have been willing to destroy it by aiming it at the Sun? He would naturally have wished to retain it for later use. A logical man does not destroy valuable equipment, and only a logical and intelligent person could have built this vessel.
But Thordred, on the other hand, would have wished the smaller ship destroyed, so that he would possess the only space ship on Earth. Such tactics would strengthen his power. Unless there were already other spacecraft in existence. . . .
That was impossible. This one was obviously patterned on Ardath’s own vessel. A man with sufficient knowledge to create it would have used it, first of all, to visit the original ship. That sounded logical, though not entirely certain.
Court would probably have resented the destruction of his property. That indicated that he and Thordred were enemies. But from that conclusion, Ardath could go no further. He could only wait until he had reached the Earth and visited the home of Stephen Court in Wisconsin. If Court lived, he would certainly be an ally.
And now Ardath concentrated on creating a weapon. Equipment was at hand, and electricity. Atomic energy Ardath could not manufacture at present, but he thought it would not be necessary. Already he had a plan for a weapon in mind.
It must be able to convey a strong shock, or even a fatal one, over quite a distance. That necessitated some conductor of the current. A jet of water—a thin spray, perhaps—might do the trick. But the use of ordinary water was not quite satisfactory.
Ardath began to experiment with the limited laboratory he had at his command. He worked arduously, sleeping and eating only when he found time, while the ship sped toward its destination.
Earth grew from a star to a spinning globe, cloud-sheathed, and then into a vast concave disk that blotted out the starry void. Ardath found the outline of North America, checked it with his maps. Then he sent the vessel arrowing toward Lake Michigan, which was visible even from beyond the atmosphere.
IT was night before he landed outside the village near Court’s home. He lowered the ship silently among concealing trees and slipped toward the lights of the settlement.
His clothing would arouse curiosity, he realized, but that could not be helped. Taking his new weapon, which was awkwardly bulky, he moved forward.
Luck was with him. A youth, idling along the highway in a dim stretch, paused to stare at Ardath. The Kyrian took advantage of the opportunity. Mouthing the unfamiliar words carefully, he asked:
“Can you say where Stephen Court lives?” It sounded like: “Cah yoh-uh say vhere Stephen Coo-urt liv-es?” The boy blinked. “Sure. You’re a foreigner, ain’t you?”
When no answer came, he went on, pointing.
“Right up the road here.” He gave explicit directions. “But I wouldn’t go up there if I was you. There was a fire up there just a little while ago, and folks saw some funny kind of airship hanging around. They think it crashed in the valley behind the house, but nobody’s gone to look. We stay away from Court’s place since he had a case of the Plague there.”
Without a word, Ardath left the lad and hurried, on. He had understood most of what had been said. “A funny kind of airship?” Could that be the golden space vessel? By the gods, if it had crashed—
The ruins of the house told their own story. Ardath hesitated, then skirted it to climb up the slope beyond the charred foundations.
“The valley behind the house,” the boy had said. Ardath topped the ridge. His thin, patrician face went cold as marble at the sight Before him. The ship was wrecked, he saw at a glance. And he saw, too, the moonlit figures of huge Thordred and his paralyzed prisoners.
As the ray flashed out from the lens in Thordred’s hand, Ardath ran swiftly down the slope, concealing himself amid the bushes. As an odor of charred flesh came to his nostrils, his eyes were suddenly remorseless as death.
At last he was close enough. He rose from the shadows and called softly:
“Thordred!”
The bearded giant whirled, shocked amazement in the amber eyes. The yellow ray swung wide, out of his control. Simultaneously Ardath lifted the weapon he held, and a thin jet of fluid shot from its muzzle, splashing on Thordred’s arm. The giant yelled in agony, and his lens fell to the ground.
“You betrayed me, Thordred,” Ardath said motionlessly. “It is just that you die.”
He stepped forward. The huge, bearded figure swayed and writhed in agony, striving to break free from the invisible grip that held it. Ardath’s foot slipped on a rounded stone. For a second, the liquid jet wavered from its mark. But swept back swiftly—
Thordred was gone! He flung himself back into the shelter of the bushes. The crashing of underbrush told of his flight.
ARDATH shrugged and lowered his weapon.
“He is harmless now,” he said, and bent to pick up the lens. Briefly he eyed the three men and the girl, still paralyzed. “Scipio, Li Yang, and two strangers.
He made a hasty adjustment on the crystal, sent a blue glow sweeping out to bathe the four. The paralysis fled.
“Ardath!” Li Yang said. “You came in good time.”
“By the gods, yes!” Scipio roared. His voice went soft with regret. “Though not in time to save Jansaiya.” His eyes clouded. Lifting his saber, he plunged forward. “I’ll be back with Thordred’s head,” he promised over his shoulder, and vanished into the woods. “You—you’re Ardath?” Court asked. The bum on his chest was aching painfully, but it was not deep, and it had been automatically cauterized. He stared at the rescuer. The Kyrian nodded.
“I am Ardath. You seem to know of me. Are you Stephen Court?”
“Yes. But how did you learn English? How did you escape from the Sun trap? What—”
“Wait.” Ardath was staring down at the wrecked ship. “Before all else, the atomic energy must be prisoned again. It is”—he fumbled for the right word—“dangerous. To approach it closely means death.”
“Lead?” Court suggested.
When Ardath looked puzzled, he gave the atomic number.
“Only a special alloy will insulate the rays of atomic energy. Do you see that container? It looks like a speck from here, beside the spot of light. Only that can hold the power.” He frowned. “The power must be placed in its sheath again. But—”
“It means death,” Li Yang broke in. “Very well. I shall do it.”
Court clutched the fat arm.
“You need not sacrifice yourself.” Ardath’s face was expressionless as he went on in his painful, stilted English.
“Whoever goes must be quick. The rays kill swiftly. Hurry to the ship, slide the container over the little globe of atomic energy, and put the cover in place. That is all. After that, it will be safe to approach.”
“Steve,” Marion said unsteadily, “let me go.”
“No!” Court’s arm went around the girl, drawing her close. “Not you. Do we need to make this sacrifice, Ardath?”
The Kyrian nodded, sorrowfully. “The energy will spread out till it touches ores. Then it will expand faster, until the Earth itself will be destroyed.”
There was a sudden interruption. From the bushes behind the group, a glowing nimbus of li
ght drifted. It was a Carrier, but it did not approach the three. Instead, it sped down the slope, toward the ship. Ardath stared.
“Marion, do you suppose—” Court said hoarsely.
“Maybe, Steve. If that was Sammy, he may have heard us.”
They watched as the weird Carrier fled toward the ship. It reached the hull, bent over and picked up a small object from the ground. It made a swift motion—and the glare of atomic energy vanished!
“He did hear us,” Court exulted. “Good old Sammy!”
THE light nimbus was drifting away toward the other side of the valley. Presently it was hidden from sight, but before that Ardath was striding down to the ship.
He returned, holding in his hands an oval container of dark, lustrous metal. It was the sheath for the atomic energy.
“We have much to talk about,” he said to Court. “Your language—I must master it better.”
Scipio came back, cursing and swinging his saber. His deep chest rose and fell as he panted.
“Thordred got away. I could not catch him.”
Court took immediate command. “Back to the road. There’s plenty of room in the car. “We’ll head directly for Washington and make plans. I think you can help us against the Plague, Ardath. Your atomic energy has already given me an idea.
“The Plague?” Ardath asked. “I’ll help, if I can. But I am sorry you did not destroy Thordred, Scipio. I fear he will trouble us again.”
The Carthaginian did not answer. He grinned unpleasantly, fingering the saber-blade, as he followed the others back toward the ridge.
CHAPTER XIX
The Earth Shield
TWO weeks later found Court haggard and red-eyed with exhaustion. He and Ardath, aided by Li Yang, Scipio and Marion, had been working day and night, experimenting, testing, discarding. Court’s task had been complicated by the difficulty of securing the Government’s backing. The President, though in favor of Court’s proposal, would not give his consent until the country’s foremost scientists had approved.
“They still don’t realize what we’re up against,” Court told Marion.
The two were walking toward a huge white auditorium on Pennsylvania Avenue. The dome of the Capitol loomed against the blue sky. A number of cars were drawn up before the marble building.
“But they know what the Plague’s doing,” Marion said worriedly. “New cases every day!”
“I know. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked for as much money as I did, yet we’ll need it all. Small weapons aren’t enough. “We’ve got to build the Shield to save Earth.”
“Well, today’s the day,” she mused. “All the scientists will be there, with lots of Army officials and Washington bigwigs.”
Court smiled. “Yes. I hope—”
He turned into an alcove and picked up a phone. Presently he asked:
“Scipio? All set? Good. Be careful, now.” He turned back to Marion. “This may be dangerous, but I think it’ll do the trick.”
Before long, he was on the stage of the auditorium, a lithe, well built figure against a background of sable curtains. The room was nearly filled with a crowd of men—scientists, uniformed Army men, politicians. A rustle of expectancy went through them as Court appeared. Without preamble he began:
“I am going to ask you to witness—” He paused as reporters’ flashlight bulbs popped and glared. “All right, boys. Save some of your plates till later. You will need them. To resume, I am going to preform an experiment for you today. Most of you are already familiar with my proposal. I have found a cure for the Plague, but it is an expensive one. On the other hand, it is the only possible way to save the human race from extinction.”
“Bunk!” a voice yelled. “Prove it!”
Court lifted his hand.
“One moment. You have all read about Ardath. Some of you, I think, have seen my colleague. His strange history has become familiar to you. Let me introduce him now.”
Ardath walked out on the platform. His antique clothing had been replaced by a well fitting suit of light flannels, and his slim figure went over to stand beside Court. The lean, patrician face looked out over the audience without expression.
“Fake!” a cry arose. It was echoed by others. A gray-haired man stood up.
“If you’ve found a cure for the Plague, prove it. This Ardath may be an impostor. He probably is. He has nothing to do with—”
ARDATH did not say a word, but he stepped forward a pace. Something in the look of the strange, alien eyes brought silence to the auditorium. In the stillness, Court spoke again.
“You know that the Plague is fatal. To touch a Carrier is instant death. That there is no possible insulation. I have already given my theories about the origin of the Plague. It is sheer life energy—the ultimate evolution of all life, the residuum of some immeasurably ancient universe that evolved into pure energy perhaps eons ago. This cosmic cloud of energy has drifted through the interstellar void until its edges infringe upon the Earth.
“Some catalyst in our atmosphere made it potent, infected our life forms with this strange virus. What the Plague does is simply this—it speeds up entropy. And the evolution that takes place is abnormal, against nature.”
Court paused, drew a deep breath, and resumed.
“Normal evolution is slow. Mankind automatically adjusts itself to different environment through the course of ages. But this is a sudden jump to the ultimate life form, which in the normal course of events should not exist in this System for billions of years. That disrupts the evolutionary check-and-balance system. Humanity is not yet ready for this metamorphosis. It must come slowly and gradually, over a period of millions of years. Let me sketch for you the future.
“More and more of the Carriers will appear as Earth plunges deeper into the heart of the cloud of life energy. The Carriers will feed on those who were once their fellows. Eventually only they will exist on this planet, and even they will die in the end for lack of sustenance. In less than fifty years, the world will be a barren, dead sphere drifting through space. That is what it might have been, had we not found a cure!”
Then the Kyrian’s clipped, precise voice rang through the auditorium.
“Court speaks truly. You men of this civilization are strange to me. Perhaps few of you believe the story of my origin. That does not matter. Working together, Court and I have discovered the nature of the Plague and found a solution. It is this—The Carriers are forms of life energy. They can be destroyed, but only by creating a stronger type of energy which will drain their own. Only one thing will do that—atomic power.
“A certain Carrier came in touch with the unguarded atomic power in my space ship. Later, we searched for him, and found his body near the vessel. Exposure to the terrific energy had killed him.”
Court nodded, remembering how he and Ardath had hunted through the Wisconsin hills for Sammy, and the burned, inhuman thing they had found at last. The Kyrian went on.
“Atomic power short-circuits the Carriers, drains their energy. Already we have constructed portable weapons which are thoroughly satisfactory.”
“But the life-cloud in space!” a voice from the audience broke in. “You can’t destroy that!”
THE Kyrian smiled grimly.
“True. And more and more Carriers will appear as we approach the nucleus of the cloud. But we can protect the Earth, create a wall around it, a shell of atomic energy! With the right machines, we can transform the Heaviside Layer into a shield that will perfectly insulate this planet against the cosmic cloud. Solar radiation will still come through unchecked. But not a trace of the deadly life energy will be able to penentrate the Shield.”
A low murmuring in the auditorium grew into a roar. Men rose and shouted questions, challenges at Ardath. A shield around the Earth? Ridiculous! Such fantastic pipe-dreams belonged with perpetual motion and other exploded theories. Ardath glanced wryly at Court.
“Well, I see I can’t convince them. Shall we—”
Court was wav
ing his arms, trying to quiet the crowd. His attempts were useless. Already some of the audience were rising and heading for the exits.
No one saw Court wave toward the wings. But all eyes turned to the stage when the black curtain rustled apart. Simultaneously a gasp of sheer horror ripped from hundreds of throats.
On the platform was—a Carrier!
A huge box of luminous metal stood just behind it, in which the horror had apparently been confined. It was open now, and the luminous fog that constituted the Carrier was drifting forward with purposeful intent.
Ardath and Court had raced to one side of the stage. Scipio appeared, wheeling a small contrivance no larger than a dictaphone. A conical tube topped it, ending in a translucent lens.
“Good,” Court snapped at the Carthaginian. “But for God’s sake, be careful now!”
The giant nodded with a flash of white teeth. Court turned to the paralyzed audience.
“Stay where you are! There’s no danger, unless you get hysterical and riot.”
A uniformed man in the aisle shouted an oath and whipped out his revolver. He pumped bullets at the glowing creature. Naturally there was no result. Court waited till the echoes had died.
“No one will deny that this is an authentic Carrier. Watch!”
The creature was at the edge of the platform when Scipio swung his weapon to focus upon it. The result was unspectacular. ray of intense white light struck from the lens, and the glow surrounding the Carrier merely began to fade. The thing remained motionless, all its glory dulling.
At last there was only something like a mummy collapsing to lie motionless on the stage. Scipio switched off the light.
“Take your seats, please,” Court said. “I have no more surprises for you. I shall welcome a committee to examine the body of this Carrier.” The first man to hasten down the aisle was a strongly built, handsome man with grizzled gray hair. He went directly to Court.
“Mr. President!” Court cried. “I didn’t know you intended to be here, or I wouldn’t have—”
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