“I don’t see any reason for that tone!” Will objected, getting to his feet. “I’m all for you, not against you. How could my father have known, anyway? Why on earth should he want to blow a six-year-old child into another plane? Be reasonable! As to your other-world friends, what reason would I have for wanting to hurt them?”
“Silly of me,” Vera Morton confessed, sighing. “But from what I have seen of men they’re a greedy, destructive lot when they have science in their grip. I’ve become so that I trust nobody after the raw deal I got early in life.... Anyhow, carry on with your work and I’ll visit you again soon.”
And suddenly there was an icy breeze and Will watched stupidly as frost crept up the panes of his shop’s door glass. The bolts shot back apparently of their own accord, then the door opened and presently slammed shut. A warmer air began to settle.
“I’ll get you back,” he breathed. “Yes, I’ll get you back, if only to find out what you look like!”
He reflected for a moment on the odd fact that he did not á know a single detail about her—except her voice, and he was willing to admit that he had liked this immensely.
He looked down at the pools of water where the frost was thawing; then he turned back to his job with new resolve.
* * * *
Vera Morton’s icy presence did not make itself felt for some days afterwards, but Will pressed on just the same in the reconstruction of his father’s machine. A week later he felt he was far enough advanced to make a test. Giving the apparatus a final look-over he switched on the juice and waited uncertainly.
“According to this setup, the energy-field should pass through the transformers and be released in an ever-widening area—but that isn’t right! Damnit, it’s simply radio transmission in a novel form. It’s no more a field of energy to deter an invader than my foot!”
He frowned, realizing he had got things completely wrong somewhere. His instruments revealed clearly that he was generating radio short waves—but nothing more. Unusual radio waves, certainly, and with a microphone he could have had a passable ‘ham’ station.
Switching off again he fiddled around, examining the details and getting more puzzled—then he looked up sharply as a familiar icy draft blew about him.
“Oh, it’s you again!” He looked into space, still unable to absorb the fantastic wonder of the situation.
“Yes, it’s I.” For some reason Vera Morton’s voice was bitter with fury. “I should have known I couldn’t trust you! Like father, like son, eh? You try and kill my friends in this other plane—in fact you have killed some of them—just to show how smart you are! Why do you have to do it? What have they done to you?”
“Done to me? Why—nothing!” Will was trying hard to grasp what she meant; then he jumped back with a gasp as a searing cold flame seemed to come near him. In amazement he watched the humming apparatus become dead as a frost-glazed switched moved of its own accord and broke contact. Then the girl’s voice came again.
“I warned you, Mr. Gregory, that if you tried to harm me or those who have aided me, I would take reprisal. I’m going to do just that! I don’t know your reason for attack—maybe fear of invasion from this other plane, which is quite impossible if you’d only take the trouble to think it out. But in any case I’m going to make you smart! I’ll make this whole city smart, in fact—”
“Hey, wait a minute!” Will cried. “I just don’t get what you mean! I am trying to help you—honest! I want to meet you, see you as you are, find out all about you—”
“You’ll find that out very soon.”
“Hear me out, can’t you? I haven’t managed to get this apparatus right yet, but I will do. I’ll bring you back to normal, I promise, but you’ve got to give me time in which to do it. As for trying to kill anybody in your plane, it’s just frankly ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous, is it? You stand there and tell me that when you’ve generated a wave that means death to them? I don’t believe you! All radio waves are visible to me, and to my friends here, but they don’t do us any harm. Now you have invented a new type of short wave which is death to my friends and near-death to me, because I am partly back to normal human form.... You’ve murdered several of my friends, and that demands reprisal.”
“But how was I to know? Radio waves don’t affect human beings: you must realize that. I never suspected—”
“You’re telling lies! You must know that radio waves can hurt under certain conditions, else you wouldn’t do it.... But you won’t get away with it!”
The cold suddenly ebbed from Will. He turned, rather stupefied, and watched the familiar frosty journey through the shop. The door opened and shut.
“Of all the damned, crazy....”
Furiously he swung back to the apparatus, and then he paused, his eyes narrowed in thought.
“I must keep reminding myself that I’m dealing with a girl who has no idea of the extent of the gulf between us. She has been brought up to see the very things which we only know of by instruments.”
He shrugged and tried to thrust the remembrance of her threatened reprisal out of his mind. He worked on steadily—one hour, two hours. Then he came to a halt, the whole thing crystal-clear in his mind.
“Got it! The output load is altered by the fifth cadence, which shuts out the upper field.... Great heavens, that would be a field of shattering power, with a vengeance! Matter itself would buckle up or else change its makeup. That must have been what happened to dad. He only half did the job, blew up the works, and shifted Vera Morton’s molecular makeup into another plane. Just the way it happened, and it could have been any scientist. That it happened to be dad was just too bad.”
He considered for a moment or two, then continued with the job, taking the entire formula to pieces bit by bit, reversing its whole action. And by degrees fatigue began to get the better of him and he started to doze—
* * * *
He awoke shivering in every limb to find a gray daylight struggling through the frosty window. Blowing on his cramped blue hands, stamping his feet, he twisted his head to look at the thermometer.
Overnight it had dropped below the zero mark! It came as a shock to him when he realized that but for the heater, which was still operating, he might have frozen to death whilst he slept. The change in the weather was far beyond the normal for the autumn.
Reprisal? The thought began to creep unbidden around his mind as he recollected Vera Morton. Was it possible that she was in some way responsible for this, or was it just a local condition confined to this workshop?
Will got up and hurried through the shop. Opening the door he looked outside. A wind like the edge of a razor blew into his face. He saw a sheet of glassy ice where road and pavement had been. Overnight, the normal dew must have condensed into ice as fast as it had settled. What few people there were about were moving slowly, clinging to railings and shop fronts to save themselves from falling.
Puzzled, Will turned back into the shop and dragged on his overcoat. He turned on all the available heat and then set about gathering together some breakfast from the tinned rations he always had on hand. No sense in going to his rooms: he would have to open the shop soon, anyway. To shave, wash, and brew tea was impossible with every tap jammed with ice. In the end he had to gather broken ice from the cold water cistern and melt it in the kettle.
At noon he switched on the radio news bulletin and for the first time gained some idea as to what had happened.
“...and this morning finds the whole of southern England in the grip of a severe cold spell,” said the announcer. “It is considered curious in official circles that these arctic conditions are limited to southern England, the remainder of the country enjoying comparatively mild weather. The main weather bureaus are at a loss to understand the development, since their charts do not reveal the presence of any cold front, or an anti-cyclonic system that could bring in cold waves from the north or the Continent. Around two o’clock this morning the temperature dropped to thirt
y-four below zero. Rivers are now frozen, harbors ice-locked, reservoirs sealed; and hundreds of people have died from exposure and the sudden change. It is possible that it may be a climatic freak, confined to one area, and scientific experts are studying this factor. It is known that arctic conditions can be produced over a large area by artificial means if necessary. Some criminal blundering upon this scientific possibility might make use of it for his own ends—to paralyze the life of a community, for instance....”
The announcer paused and then went on to a different topic. Will switched off, blew on his hands, then returned to his apparatus. But he just could not get Vera Morton out of his mind. She was back of all this somewhere. If only she would return and give him a chance to explain.... That was not very likely, he realized. Possibly the only way to recall her was to get the apparatus so perfected that she could be restored to normal.
So throughout the day Will went on working steadily, only twice disturbed by customers since few people were venturing outside. By evening he had got the reversal process pretty well worked out in theory— Then he looked up in surprise as there came a sudden imperious hammering on the locked door of the shop. Puzzled, he went to open it and found himself gazing at two men who had the air of police officers about them. Such a possibility was substantiated to Will when, glancing beyond the two men, he saw a patrol car parked further down the ice-glazed street.
“I’m a police officer, sir,” the taller one announced, displaying his warrant card. “I have here a warrant to search your premises.”
“What the blazes for?” Will demanded blankly. “What do you suppose I’m doing? Counterfeiting money, or something?”
“Take a look around,” the taller one said, with a nod to his companion.
“Hey, wait a minute—” Will hurried after both men as they marched through the shop into the rear regions. “What’s the idea of busting in on me like this?”
Neither man answered. He followed them into his workshop and waited in silent wonderment whilst they surveyed his apparatus. Then the taller one switched it off and turned a grim face.
“You own this apparatus?” he asked briefly.
“Certainly I do! But—”
‘What’s your name, sir?”
“William Gregory. And I may as well tell you—”
“You can save all that until later. You’re under arrest, Mr. Gregory. We got this wavelength at headquarters on the detectors just before the freeze up began, and we’ve been watching for it coming again. We got it again tonight from the same place—here! You’ve some explaining to do. Get your things on.”
“But, officer, this is absurd—”
“Move! Bring that stuff with you, sergeant.”
Will looked around him helplessly; then he donned his coat and afterwards sat in silence as he was driven over the glassy roads to the nearest police headquarters. Finally he found himself in the dreary office of the Superintendent.
“Look here, Superintendent, I’ve got rights in this matter!” Will snapped, thumping the desk. “You have no right to hold me on any charge, or search my place as you did—”
“We had every right to search your place, Mr. Gregory, otherwise the warrant to do so would never have been issued. As for the charge against you, it follows automatically. We could have charged you last night only we wanted to be sure before picking you up—”
“But what is the charge?” Will nearly yelled.
“Causing general public alarm. It’s the freeze-up.”
Will stared. “The—the freeze-up?”
“We all know this freeze-up isn’t natural,” the Superintendent explained. “We know that somebody is causing it deliberately through scientific means. The presence of a new type of radio wave, two nights on the run—which type of wave could produce atmospheric changes—is quite enough for us. Do you deny, after what was found on your premises, that you have a new design of radio apparatus?”
“Of course I don’t deny it. But I do deny causing the freeze-up. Why on earth should I want to do that?”
“That’s for you to say, isn’t it? If your apparatus is perfectly harmless, why not tell us what it does? It’ll make things easier for you at the trial.”
“Trial?” Will gave a start.
“That’s what I said. It is an offence to use radio apparatus of new design without a Government test first, especially one liable to upset the public. Get it through your head, Mr. Gregory, that over two hundred people have died from this cold wave, and the cost in money and hold-ups presents a tidy item, too. If you’ve got an explanation to help prove your innocence then let’s hear it. Our scientists will go to work on it for you quickly enough.”
Will remained silent and shook his head slowly. It was just commencing to dawn upon him that he had no alibi at all. The story of an invisible woman, or that of a radio apparatus designed exclusively for the destruction of matter, would never be credited by the matter-of-fact police.
“So you’re not going to say anything?” the Superintendent asked bitterly.
“No.”
“It’d be best for you to think it over, Mr. Gregory, because you’re in an exceedingly tough spot. All right, boys, take him away.”
Still dazed, Will found himself escorted from the office and before long he had been bundled into a cell, upon which a barred door was noisily clanged....
* * * *
For a reason which Will was at a complete loss to understand, he found next morning that the ice had thawed considerably and there was a warm wind blowing through the ventilator of his cell. The ice hold-up was over.
On the face of it, it looked as though Vera Morton had called off her reprisal—unless the freeze-up had been the overture to something far worse. In any case, Will was under no delusion now as to how things looked for him. The scientists would be taking full note of this thaw, were perhaps even now taking his machinery to bits and finding explanations, which, damnably enough, were there plainly enough! The machine could be proven to emit radio waves capable of producing cold: that was the devilish part of the whole business.
By and large, Will spent a restless day. It was around midnight again when he became aware of a chilliness coming into his cell. He jerked upright on his bunk, his heart pounding. Quickly he moved to the barred window, and then he fell back as the glass suddenly cracked. Immediately afterwards there followed a series of taps by something unseen and the broken pieces of glass were quickly removed.
Biting cold surged in upon Will. He shivered, but continued to watch the performance with fascinated interest, the details only dimly revealed by the solitary lamp glowing in the ceiling of the cell. He saw the strong bars of the frame coat with hoarfrost; then they began to glisten with ice. Colder and colder still the air became. Then gradually the window bars began to change their nature and powdered away into gray ash.
“Mr. Gregory! Will Gregory!” The familiar voice of Vera Morton was calling urgently, but how different it sounded! It was no longer harsh and impersonal; instead it was almost apologetic. And it was the first time the girl had used Will’s Christian name, too.
“I’m here,” he answered. Then he added: “Take it easy! Don’t come into this narrow cell or I’ll freeze to death!”
“I know that. You noticed what happened to these bars when I held onto them? It shows very clearly the gulf there is between us, doesn’t it? Anyway, listen carefully, because I haven’t got very long. I’m perched on the stone ledge outside here and I don’t know how long it will hold me because of the cold I’m radiating. It’s quiet enough out here so when I’ve gone drop down into this alleyway and I’ll join you.”
“Wait!” Will moved as close to the invisible girl as he dared. “I’m wondering what made you come after me and give me the chance to escape. How did you know I was—”
“Tell you later. Follow me the moment the frost has thawed from the window sill.”
Will fancied he heard the sound of her body dropping to the narrow little street ba
ck of the prison headquarters He waited, thanking his lucky stars that the cell was only an ordinary one in a district police station, and not within a big State prison from which there would have been no possible chance of escape.
It seemed ages to him before the frost had thawed sufficiently for him to risk gripping the stonework. At last he dared it and dropped down into the gloom outside.
“This way!” came the girl’s voice from the night emptiness and by the cold she emanated Will guessed he was within speaking distance of her. He kept within range as she led the way swiftly through the quiet back streets of the city, only calling a halt when they were reasonably sure of immunity from pursuit.
“I hope you’ve worked this out properly,” Will said seriously. “Don’t forget I’m a fugitive on the run. I haven’t even stood trial yet and if I’m recaptured things will be pretty hot for me.”
“If it comes to that, we’re both fugitives,” she said—then as she sensed his surprise she continued: “You said you were puzzled as to why I had returned to aid you. The truth is that I decided to find out if what you had said about human beings being unhurt by all forms of radio waves was correct. I found that it was; that you had killed my friends quite unintentionally. I saw that I’d wronged you, and that it is the gulf of sensory perception between us that led to my mistaken conclusions. So I called off the reprisal I’d started—that of having electrical machines, invisible to human beings, placed at different parts of London. They slowed down the molecular vibrations of the atmosphere and thereby produced arctic conditions. Had I gone to the limit and slowed the molecules down to zero, life itself would have ceased to exist.”
“So that’s what you did! And in calling it off you made it look as though I’d been responsible for the whole thing. I was arrested because—”
“Yes, yes, I know why you were arrested. I saw the newspapers this morning and, realizing what had happened, I decided to get you out of jail— But I said I am a fugitive, too—and I am. The beings of this other plane cannot even now believe that your radio wave was not intended to harm them. I’ve tried to explain to them, but it’s no use. Finally I destroyed the machines likely to produce arctic conditions and hurried to help you. But in so doing I’ve made it look as if I’ve forsaken my friends for you—their attacker. They’re after me, just as the police are after you. And don’t forget that in this other plane I am visible....”
Dynasty of the Small Page 6