Outside the Universe ip-4

by Edmond Hamilton

  "The serpent-ships!" I cried. "They're overtaking us!"

  My cry brought Jhul Din back up into the pilot room, and standing together with eyes riveted upon the space-chart we saw clearly that with every moment, slowly but steadily, the serpent-ships behind were drawing nearer, though we were moving at our utmost speed. Our ship, battered and worn by its tremendous flight through the void from universe to universe, and by the space-fights it had come through, was a fraction slower than the new ships of our pursuers, and that fraction of difference in speed, we saw, was bringing them closer upon us with each passing minute. Yet there was a chance still, we knew, to gain the Andromeda universe before they overtook us; so still at utmost velocity we flashed on, toward the shining universe ahead.

  On-on-the hours that followed, while we drove through the awful void with the serpent-ships behind closing slowly and inexorably in upon us, live in my memory only as a strange period of ceaseless, rushing flight, with our eyes always upon the space-chart and upon the brilliant disk-mass of light ahead. Twice we flashed through the outskirts of great heat-regions glowing there in the void, and once past the edge of one of the deadly areas of radio-active vibrations, but ever after passing them our ship swung back toward the universe ahead. That universe, as we hummed on hour upon hour, was changing from a glowing disk of light into a great mass of individual points of light, into a gigantic mass of stars that loomed in greater radiant splendor before us with each passing hour. Green and red and yellow and blue suns we could glimpse among its thronging thousands, and others still white-hot with youth, shining with ever greater brilliance as we drove through the void toward them.

  Before us the great universe lay in all its true gigantic glory, when we had covered two-thirds of the distance to it, but by that time our eyes were not upon it at all, but upon the space-chart and the black void behind us; since in the intervening hours the serpent-ships had crept ever closer toward us, their swarm on the space-chart less than an inch behind our racing ship-dot. Even that little gap, in the hours that followed, was lessening, closing, while we three in the pilot room watched it in tense silence. At last, with the blazing mass of suns of the Andromeda universe stretched across the heavens but a dozen hours ahead, we saw that the serpent-swarm on the chart was all but touching our single ship-dot, saw that the end at last was at hand.

  "They'll overhaul us in less than an hour." exclaimed Jhul Din. "We'll never even reach the Andromeda universe."

  To his outburst we made no answer, gazing in silence up at the big space-chart, watching doom creep upon us. The serpent-swarm had crept still farther upon us until its foremost dots seemed touching our own ship-dot, its foremost racing craft in reach of our own. Then, gazing through the rear distance-windows that projected from the pilot room's sides, the big Spican uttered a low exclamation, pointing mutely backward as we turned toward him. And as we gazed we saw, far behind us there in the lightless void, a swarm of close-massed light-points that steadily was largening, was drawing nearer toward us, toward our doom. For it was the end, I knew. We had escaped death in a hundred forms in the last days, but this we could not escape, for with the Andromeda universe still hours away our chance of escape was gone. Dodge and turn as we might, they would corner us, would hem us in; and though we might destroy one or two of their half-thousand ships, by no miracle could we hope to escape the rest. For a moment a deathly silence held us as we stared back toward those nearing light-points, and then I whirled around to the order-tube.

  "Battle-positions-all of the crew to the ray-tubes." I shouted, and as I turned back to the other two I cried to them, "We'll let some of them feel our rays before they end us."

  I heard Jhul Din shout his approval, saw Korus Kan's eyes burning as he glanced back toward our pursuers, heard from beneath the cries of our crew as they took up their positions at the ray-tubes, ready to smite a last blow at our enemies before they overwhelmed us. Behind us in the black the onrushing serpent-ships had grown from light-points to great dark oval shapes with white-lit pilot rooms at their noses, the score of great disk attraction-ships racing on among them. Ever closer they were leaping, and I knew that in a moment more those disk-ships would be near enough to grasp us, would glow with attractive force and hold us helpless while the death-beams of the fighting-ships swept us. But as we tensely waited for the end, still flashing on at our own full speed, there was a sharp cry from Korus Kan, and we wheeled toward him to find him regarding the pilot room's walls with eyes suddenly alight with new hope.

  "It's another radio-active vibration region." he cried, pointing toward the walls and controls that were beginning to flicker out with the strange, fluorescent light we had always dreaded. "If we plunge straight into it there's a chance we can shake off the pursuit."

  I caught my breath at the suggestion but in an instant saw that he was right, that though we might meet death amid the disintegrating vibrations, we might perhaps escape and throw off our pursuers, from whom death was certain as things were.

  "It's a chance," I exclaimed. "Head straight into the radio-active region, Korus Kan."

  He glanced swiftly at the instruments before him, swerved our racing ship a little to the right, and then walls and floor and mechanisms about us were glowing with ever-waxing misty light as we drove in toward the great region's heart. I felt the same tingling force flooding through me that I had already once experienced, as our flying ship raced on, again swaying and spinning as it flashed through the mighty ether-currents whose meeting and collision formed the great region of vibrations about us, though outside was only the same blackness as before. With every moment, though, our ship, our mechanisms, our own bodies, were glowing with waxing light, while in the darkness behind I saw that the great swarm of ships racing after us was itself aglow now with light, as it, too, rushed into the great radio-active region after us. And still, with a courage that matched our own desperation, they were speeding after and closer to us, undeterred even by the crumbling death that flooded space all about them and us now.

  Glowing ship and glowing bodies, force that rapidly was overcoming us with a dizzy nausea and that was crumbling the walls and machinery about us, the gathered suns of the Andromeda universe far ahead and the glowing half-thousand pursuing ships just behind-all these were but a mad chaos in our minds as we reeled on, farther and farther into the mighty radio-active region. I heard even above the roaring of our generators a clatter of falling metal somewhere toward the ship's rear, while even about us the walls and all else were crumbling, like sugar in water, glowing and disintegrating, as our whole ship was beginning to break up. Now, too, as the great swarm of ships behind raced ever closer a score or more of their number had drawn level with us, on our right, attaining that position by slanting in to cut us off when we had swerved in toward the radio-active region. And as pursued and pursuers raced on, all glowing and disintegrating alike, that score of ships to our right was pressing ever closer toward us.

  Nearer they came, and then from their glowing ships toward our own stabbed the pale death-beams, sweeping about us as we flashed on, a shining mark. As they did so, though, our own red shafts burned out swiftly, two of those attacking ships flaring to nothingness beneath them, while with a swift turn to the left Korus Kan had avoided the pale beams. That turn, though, took us now every moment outward once more from the radio-active region's center, forcing us out once more into clear space where the serpent-ships could annihilate us without danger to themselves. Out and out we flashed, and though our ship and all in it still glowed with the fluorescent light, that glow was waning, and the clang of falling metal from beneath, from the ship's disintegrating sides had ceased. Out-out-the score of ships to our right joining with the greater mass behind us again, and all drawing closer toward us, until the tingling nausea that had filled us had vanished, the glowing light of our ships and theirs vanishing likewise. Then, in one great mass, they were leaping again upon us.

  Our lives at last within their grasp, they flashed after us an
d toward us, and I knew that an instant more would see them about us, their death-beams striking at us from all around as they encircled us. I gazed ahead for a moment, to where the giant universe of Andromeda stretched like a great rampart of burning suns across the black, cold heavens, still hours away from us, and then gazed back to where the close-massed hundreds of serpent-ships leapt after and upon us, the death-beam tubes in their sides already swinging toward us. Then in me, at that instant of onrushing doom, there flamed up a strange, wild rage, a fierce, utter fury that had grown in me during all the struggles and flights that had been ours since first we had met these serpent-creatures. I wheeled around to Jhul Din and Korus Kan, my anger breaking from me in a fiery shout.

  "Turn the ship square around and halt, Korus Kan!" I cried. "We of the Interstellar Patrol are not going to be picked off as we run-we're going to turn and face them head on."

  Korus Kan's eyes flamed at my cry, his hands moved swiftly on the controls, and then our ship had curved suddenly about and had slowed and stopped, swinging around and hanging motionless in space, facing our enemies. Even as we had curved and stopped, they too had swiftly halted, as though suspicious for the moment of some trap, and hung before us in the black gulf of space, facing us. Then there was an instant of utter stillness and silence, as there in the void we faced them, our ship motionless in space, we three in the pilot room gazing toward their own great swarm of ships hanging motionless before us; the mighty Andromeda universe flaming in the heavens behind us, now, and the far, dim glow of the dying serpent-universe in the blackness ahead, and the misty little circle of light that was our own galaxy away to the right; all these lay about us in a silence that was the silence of doom. For a single moment the great tableau held, and then, disdaining to use their attraction-ships upon us now, the great swarm of serpent-ships leapt as one toward us, their hundreds of death-beams stabbing toward us.

  But as they did so, as they sprang upon us there in space, there leapt from above and behind us a mighty swarm of other ships-long, slender, flat, gleaming ships entirely different from the oval-shaped serpent-craft, or even from the cigar-like ships of our own galaxy-long, flat ships like none we had ever seen before, that flashed down over and past us straight upon the serpent-fleet! From the sides of these strange new ships there projected thick, squat cylinders that were pointed now toward the serpent-ships before us, and though no ray or beam could be seen issuing from those cylinders, the serpent-ships at which they were aimed were crumpling, were contracting and folding up into shapeless masses of crumpled metal, as though crushed in the grasp of a giant hand! And as that mighty swarm of strange, flat ships flashed down upon the serpent-fleet that reeled back and recoiled from its terrific blows, I heard a wild cry from Korus Kan, as he and Jhul Din stared out with me.

  "Strange ships attacking our pursuers." he cried. "They're ships that have come out from the Andromeda universe to save us from the serpent-creatures' pursuit."

  11: Into the Andromeda Universe

  As the mighty swarm of Andromeda ships from behind us drove down upon the half-thousand serpent-craft ahead, I could only stare for a moment in stupefied surprise, so stunning had been our sudden transition from death to deliverance. I saw the long, flat craft of the Andromedans, a full thousand in number, flashing down on the serpent-ships in one great swoop, saw the latter, in groups, in dozens, in scores, crumpling and constricting as the deadly cylinders of the Andromedan ships were turned toward them. Within an instant, it seemed, a full two hundred of the half-thousand serpent-ships had crumpled and whirled away beneath the terrible, invisible force of the cylinders, though death-beams were raging out thickly all about the swooping Andromedan ships. Then, with almost half their fleet wiped out, the remaining three hundred serpent-ships, including their score of great disk-attraction ships, had whirled around and were racing back into space toward their own dying universe, fleeing from the terrific blows of the attacking ships that had come out from the Andromeda universe ahead, just in time to save us.

  Now, as the serpent-fleet flashed from sight, into the void toward its own universe, the thousand Andromedan ships massed swiftly and moved toward our own, that hung still motionless there in the gulf of space. In tense silence we watched them come, hoping that they might not set us down, too, as enemies because of our serpent-ship, but they turned none of their deadly cylinders toward us. Those cylinders, as I was later to learn, were in reality projectors that shot forth a shaft of invisible force, one that caused the ether about any ship it struck to compress about that ship instantly with terrific force, compressing thus into small compass the ether-vibrations that were the matter of the ship, and thus crumpling that matter itself, in an instant. It was a weapon fully as terrible as the crimson destruction-rays of our galaxy's ships or the pale death-beams of the serpent-creatures, a shaft of crumpling force that we knew could destroy us instantly. Instead of loosing it upon us, though, they slanted down until one of the foremost ships was hanging just above our own.

  We guessed then that they meant to enter our ship, and in a moment our guess was confirmed as the long, flat ship hovering above sank downward until its lower surface was lying along the upper surface of our own oval craft, the two touching. Then we heard a section of the underside of the ship above sliding back, and a moment later, at my order, one of our crew slid open our own upper space-door. The openings in the two ships, in the upper side of ours and the lower side of theirs, were thus together, pressed so closely by the weight of the upper ship as it pressed down upon us that it formed a hermetically sealed opening connecting the two. Then, down through that opening from the ship above, down into the corridor of our ship and toward our pilot room, there came a half-dozen of the Andromedans from the ship above us, a half-dozen of the people of the Andromeda universe.

  I do not know what weird and alien shapes we had expected to see in these beings of a different universe, but I do know that never had our imaginations envisaged creatures of so utterly strange a nature as these that came toward us now. For they were gaseous! Tall columns of misty green gas, that held always to the same pillar-like outline, as unchanging of form as though of solid flesh, and that were gliding along the corridor toward us. Upright, unchanging columns of green, opaque vapor, from near the top of whose six feet of height there branched out on each side a smaller arm of the same thick green gas, arms that they moved at will, and in which some of them held instruments and weapons. Tall, erect columns of thick, green vapor, without features of any kind that we could see that yet were living, intelligent and powerful beings like ourselves. Their bodies, their two arms, their very organs and features and senses formed of gas, just as our bodies are solid, and that of a jelly-fish liquid.

  Down the corridor they came toward us, gliding smoothly forward, halting just before us and surveying us, I knew, by whatever strange sense of sight was within their gaseous bodies. Dumbly we stared toward them, for the first time now wholly appreciating the immense difference between us and them; then, at a loss for another gesture, I held out my hand toward the foremost of them. Instantly his own arm came out toward me, gripped my hand with a grip as solid as though that arm had been of flesh instead of gas, a grasp that though cold was real and tangible. When the one before me had withdrawn his grasp, then I spoke aloud to him, but there came no reply. Instead the Andromedan extended toward me, in the grasp of his other arm, a small globe of what seemed misty glass, a few inches in diameter and mounted upon a little metal base. As he held it, though, pressing a tiny button in the base, the misty globe suddenly glowed with light, and then in it I could see figures moving, as though in some tiny cinema-screen.

  The scene in it was that of a great, gleaming-walled room, utterly strange in appearance, with a mass of shining, unfamiliar apparatus grouped about it, among which moved a dozen or more Andromedans like those before me, upright columns of green gas gliding to and fro, inspecting and tending the different mechanisms. Then all of them grouped about a single one, a vast tube
that I sensed was a great telescope, which pointed out into the blackness of space, and down from which there fell upon a broad white surface a swift-moving picture, one of a single oval space-ship rushing through the void, with Korus Kan, Jhul Din and myself visible in its white-lit pilot room, while not far behind it there raced in pursuit of it a great swarm of serpent-manned ships. Then the Andromedans grouped about that great telescope were seen moving swiftly over to an apparatus at the room's center, apparently one of communication; and the next moment the whole scene had vanished, and was replaced by one of a thousand long, flat ships-Andromedan ships-slanting swiftly upward from a great world and into space. Then that, too, had clicked off; there was a flashing scene of those same thousand ships leaping upon our pursuers as they had done but a moment before; then all light in the little instrument had vanished as the Andromedan before me snapped off its control button.

  * * *

  A moment we remained in silence, puzzled, until Korus Kan broke the stillness with an exclamation. "It's a communication instrument, Dur Nal," he exclaimed. "One that shows in visible pictures the thoughts of whoever it is connected to-it's their method of communication with each other, apparently."