“We can’t approach that thing,” said Teddy, with his hand over his eyes. “I’d just as soon, or sooner, try to tinker with burning Thermit. We’ll have to shoot armor-piercing shells at it. They’ll freeze when they get near it, but the impact ought to crack the thing.”
He motioned to the fur-clad soldiers to move back from the crater, and after a hasty consultation with the lieutenant went off toward the fort to ask for a small-caliber field gun.
The lieutenant paced back and forth restlessly. He was an ambitious young man. He did not relish taking orders from a civilian like Teddy. His eye fell on the heap of equipment that had been brought out from the fort. Two trench mortars, a trench catapult, a liquid-flame apparatus—one of the American inventions that had far outdone the original German flamenwerfers! There had been some thought of trying to reach a point just above the cold bomb and melting the ice down to it with liquid flame. That had been quickly proven impracticable, but the liquid-fire apparatus had not been sent back. The young lieutenant was not stupid. On the contrary, he was a singularly intelligent man. In a flash he saw how the liquid flame could have been used much more efficiently than Teddy’s resistance coils about his explosive charges. The idea simply had not occurred to Teddy, or the young lieutenant, either. Now, however, he became all eagerness. If he succeeded in breaking up the cold bomb during Teddy’s absence it would be a feather in his cap. If, in addition, he pointed out a method of dealing with the cold bombs superior to Teddy’s plodding system, it would certainly mean his promotion and a very desirable reputation for himself in his profession.
He gave his orders briskly. The liquid-flame tank was set up, and began to spray out its stream of fire. The young lieutenant had it trained so that it passed just above the top of the ungainly cold bomb and grazed the upper edge. Then the two trench mortars were made ready for firing. The young lieutenant set them at their proper elevation himself. He was tremendously excited. He pointed the two mortars with the most meticulous precision. To aim them properly he had to expose his face again and again to the direct rays from the cold bomb, but he paid no attention to the searing, freezing rays.
The stream of liquid fire shot upward in a perfect parabola, and fell evenly, exactly, where it was aimed. The young lieutenant knew that a mortar bomb would be frozen by the intense cold if it were fired at the cold bomb direct, but his plan got around that difficulty. With the liquid fire playing just above and grazing the cold bomb, when the shell from the mortar struck the incredibly cold surface, both the shell and the cold bomb would be bathed in flame.
All was ready. The lieutenant fixed his eyes on the cold bomb and gave the signal. The two small trench mortars spouted flame. Two ungainly bombs rose high in the air and fell hurtling down toward the strange, frosted object at the bottom of the crater. One of the bombs would fall a little to the left the other—squarely on top!
The cracking explosion of the bomb from the trench mortar was lost in the greater roar that followed it. Before the young lieutenant or any of his men could lift a finger they were enveloped by a colossal sheet of vaporized metal that seemed to fill the earth, the air, and all the sky. Of a weird and unearthly tint, the white-hot flame leaped into the air. It sprang up three thousand feet in hardly more than two seconds. The blast had the velocity of many rifle balls, and the withering heat of molten metal. The young lieutenant and his men were swept into nothingness in the fraction of a second. The crater they had worked for hours to blast out was as a puny ant hole beside the vast chasm that opened in the ice down to the red clay far beneath the bed of the Narrows. And New York shook and trembled from the shock of the terrific explosion.
CHAPTER VII.
Teddy was thrown down by the concussion, and fell in a heap against the commandant. He leaped to his feet and rushed to the window, from which the glass had disappeared. He saw the remnants of the sheet of flame dying away and saw that the low-lying cloud of mist had been blown from the surface of the ice. A gaping orifice, five hundred feet across, showed itself where Teddy and the lieutenant had been working. Of the lieutenant and his men no trace could be seen. Two or three of the little red flags that had marked the path through the mist still remained, however, and a small sledge was lying, overturned, beside the sledge route. Four tiny black figures lay in twisted attitudes beside the sledge. As Teddy looked one of them began to struggle feebly.
Teddy stared, speechless. For a moment he was dazed by the suddenness and the overwhelming nature of the calamity that had befallen the young lieutenant and his detachment. Only accident had saved him from a similar fate. Then his professional instinct reasserted itself, and he began to piece together what he knew of the bomb. In a moment the solution came to him.
“Varrhus planned this,” he said unsteadily. “He filled up his hollow cold bombs with solid iron. The heat that would come in would first melt and then vaporize the interior until the pressure inside was more than the still-solid crust could stand. And all that vaporized iron would burst out. What a fiend that man must be!”
An hour later, baffled and discouraged, he was sitting in the laboratory with his head in his hands, trying desperately to grapple with this new problem. The new cold bombs apparently could not be assailed without destruction of those who attacked them. It was impossible to imagine that volunteers could be found to sacrifice their lives to destroy each new bomb as it was placed. The horror of being annihilated by a blast of metallic vapor would deter men who would not hesitate to face death in a less terrible form. And Varrhus was evidently able to place them again nearly as fast as they were blown up. Telegrams announcing the explosion of the Jacksonville and Charleston ice floes lay before Teddy, supplemented by a cablegram from Panama saying that the Miraflores Locks had been destroyed by the blast when the Panama cold bomb had burst. Teddy was nearly certain that the next morning would find the exploded bombs replaced. Varrhus’ black flyer was evidently capable of carrying a great weight at an immense speed. It also seemed able to reach an almost incredible height, from the fact that the second cold bomb had been dropped in the Narrows in broad daylight without the flyer having been sighted.
Evelyn turned from the instruments with which she had been working. She had scraped off a small bit of the lacquer-like surface of the silver bracelet, and had been analyzing it in the hope of finding what element or combination had been used to produce the mystifying heat-inductive effect.
‘Teddy,” she said depressedly, “I can’t find a thing. The lacquer effect seems to be simply the appearance of some way he has treated the metal. The surface gives just the same analysis as the filings from the inside of the metal. I took a spectro photo and it gives silver lines with a trace of lead. Analysis by arsenic reduction gives the same result.”
“Perhaps those detectives will be able to trace Varrhus by the mailing box they took,” said Teddy, without much hope. “It’s not very likely, though. We’ve got to think of something!”
Silence fell in the laboratory again, broken only by the faint whistling sound of the flame Evelyn had used in her analytical work.
“The trouble is,” said Teddy grimly, “that we’ve been trailing Varrhus, instead of anticipating him. If we could know where he was going to be—”
“He’ll have to show up sooner or later,” Evelyn commented. “We know, for instance, that he’ll have to replace that bomb in the Narrows or let the harbor stay open. The use of these new explosive bombs means that he has to expose himself more than he’d have to with the old ones.”
“There ought to be an aerial patrol above the city—”
Teddy stood up sluggishly, discouragement in every line of his figure. A servant tapped on the door of the laboratory.
“Lieutenant Davis, of the military flying corps, sir.”
“Show him in,” said Teddy listlessly.
A slim young officer came in. His friendly, boyish face was full of a whimsical humor.
“This
is rather an intrusion, I’m afraid,” he said half apologetically, “but I thought you might be able to help me out.”
“I’ve done nothing so far,” said Teddy in a rather discouraged tone. “Miss Hawkins and I were just canvassing the situation. You’re talking about the iceberg and Varrhus, aren’t you?”
“Of course. No one talks about anything else nowadays. My taxi had a tough time getting through the crowds on the streets. They don’t understand about the explosion in the Narrows yet.”
Teddy introduced him to Evelyn.
“Pleasure, I’m sure,” said Davis with a smile. Then his face sobered. “That was rotten hard luck about your father, Miss Hawkins. I’m not good at making speeches, but I hope you realize that everyone is sympathizing with you and in a measure sharing your sorrow.”
Evelyn shook hands.
“I will allow myself to grieve when Varrhus has been disposed of,” she said quietly. “Until then I dare not let myself think”
Davis released her hand and turned to Teddy.
“Varrhus—or the chap in the black flyer, anyway—killed my best friend, Curtiss. He was driving the little Nieuport that attacked Varrhus the day you blew up the first bomb. I was the first man to reach the spot where Curtiss had crashed, and I swore I’d get Varrhus for that.”
“I remember,” said Teddy. “Frozen.”
Davis nodded, his face grave.
“I have what is probably the fastest little machine in the United States, at the fort. A two-seater, with twin Liberty Motors that shoot her up to a hundred and fifty miles an hour without any trouble at all. I think I can get Varrhus with it. I came to you to learn what you think about Varrhus’ weapons. It’s only the part of wisdom to learn all you can about your opponent, you know.”
Teddy found the young man impressing him very favorably.
“I haven’t given the matter much thought,” he confessed, “but you remember Varrhus’ tactics?”
“He dropped like a tumbler pigeon,” said Davis, “and Curtiss overshot him. There wasn’t a sign of firing except from Curtiss. He simply overran the place where Varrhus had been three or four seconds before and then dropped. He was frozen stiff when I found him.”
“I think,” said Teddy carefully, “that Varrhus had shot up a jet of some liquefied gas, probably hydrogen. It hung suspended in the air for a moment, and in that moment the biplane ran into it. A drop of liquid hydrogen placed in the palm of your hand would freeze your arm solidly up well past the elbow. It’s something over five hundred degrees below zero. Your friend ran into what amounted to a shower of it.”
Davis considered.
“Cheerful thing to fight against, isn’t it?” he asked, with a smile. “Tactics, mustn’t run above the black flyer and mustn’t run below it. He can probably shoot it straight down, too.”
“And almost certainly from the sides,” said Teddy. “The man must have been working on this thing for years, and even if he’s insane he’d be a fool not to make his weapon as efficient as possible.”
Davis’ expression became rueful.
“And so I’m supposed to keep my distance,” he remarked, “and take pot shots at him while dancing merrily around in mid-air. Can’t we do anything about that stuff to nullify it?”
“Burn it,” suggested Evelyn. “Liquid hydrogen burns just as readily as the same gas at normal temperatures.”
The three of them were silent for a moment.
“Would rockets set it afire?” asked Davis presently. “I could keep a stream of fireballs shooting out before my machine.”
“They ought to.” Teddy was losing his discouragement in this new prospect of coming to grips with Varrhus. “I say, will your machine burn readily?”
“Only the gas tank. The wings and struts are fireproof. New process.”
Davis stood up suddenly.
“Would it bother you to come over and look at my machine? We could probably figure out the thing better then.”
Teddy rose almost enthusiastically.
“We’ll go over now if you say so.”
The taxicab bearing Teddy and the young aviator down to the fort was forced to travel slowly amid the throngs of apprehensive people that overflowed the sidewalks and made the streets al-most impassable. The launch took them swiftly to the fort, and in a few moments they had arrived at the small aviation field behind the fortifications on Staten Island. Davis led Teddy directly to the shed that contained the swift machine of which he was so proud. It was a splendid product of the aircraft maker’s art. Twin Liberty Motors developed nearly eight hundred horsepower between them, and two great shining propellers pulled the machine through the air with irresistible force.
“You see,” said Davis, with some enthusiasm, “the motors aren’t in the fuselage, so the gunner sits up here in the bow and can fire freely in any direction. The one-man planes with synchronized machine guns firing through the propeller aren’t in it with these for real lighting. They’re splendid little machines—I drove one in France—but I honestly believe this is better than they are. This one responds to the controls every bit as readily, and with a good gunner—”
“Machine gunner in France myself,” said Teddy, touching his breast. “Would you take a chance on letting me sit up front tonight?”
“Tonight?” asked Davis,
“I believe Varrhus will appear to drop another cold bomb tonight. It will probably be dropped inside the harbor so the ice cake will touch the Battery. That will set the people frantic, and make them beg the government to enter into a parley with Varrhus. It’s paid no official attention to him so far, you know,”
Davis’ expression became keen and rather stern.
“We’ve four hours before dark. We’ll have to set to work.”
Teddy went over and stepped up the ladder that leaned against the cockpit.
“I want to see your gasoline supply,” he remarked. In a moment he came down, looking a trifle dubious. “If I’m right about Varrhus using liquid hydrogen for a weapon, and we can set it afire, we’ll dive through half a dozen sheets of flame tonight. Something will have to be done to protect that gas tank from catching fire, and some protection for the carburetors, too.”
“Well fix that in a hurry,” said Davis briskly. “Oh, Simpson! Come here!”
* * * *
In twenty minutes there were half a dozen mechanicians at work, and Teddy was carefully inspecting the machine gun at the bow of the fuselage.
Teddy telephoned back to Evelyn what he anticipated would occur that night and his own share in it.
“Of course there’s some risk in it,” he finished, “but I guess we’ll come out.”
Evelyn’s voice was more anxious than Teddy had expected.
“Do be careful, Teddy,” she said in a worried tone. “Please be very careful. Varrhus has so many fiendish weapons. I’m terribly afraid.”
Teddy’s voice was grim.
“With the kind assistance of the German government,” he remarked, “we have a few fiendish inventions, too. I’m using explosive bullets only tonight. Varrhus is outlawed.”
Evelyn spoke almost faintly.
“But take good care of yourself, please, Teddy,” she urged. “It were better that Varrhus got away this once than that you should be killed for nothing.”
Teddy smiled. “I’ve no intention of being killed, Evelyn, but I have some intention that Varrhus shall be.”
There was a curious sound from the other end of the wire.
“But—but—” Evelyn’s voice died away. “I’m—I’m going to be praying, Teddy. Good-by.”
The last was very faint. Teddy turned from the instrument and went out to where the aeroplane had been rolled from its shed. The sun was sinking and dusk was falling. Time passed and darkness settled down upon the earth. Stars twinkled into being. A long searchlight poked a tentative finger of light into the sky.
“We’d better be going,” said Davis thoughtfu
lly. “We want to be well up before he appears.”
Teddy clambered up to his seat and adjusted the straps that would hold him in place. He pulled down the helmet and fitted the telephone receivers securely over his ears. A telephone was necessary for communication with Davis, four feet behind him, because of the tremendous roar of the engines. He took the machine-gun butt and found the trigger, then made sure the first of a belt of cartridges was in place. He settled back in his seat as the mechanics began to twirl the propellers. He was going out to fight the black flyer, but most incongruously he was not thinking of Varrhus at all. His thoughts dwelt with strange intensity upon Evelyn.
CHAPTER VIII.
New York lay below them. The long, straight lines of lights shining up through the semi-darkness of the moonlit night made a strange appearance to the two in the swift machine, Davis had mounted to a great height, some ten thousand feet, and the pin points of light outlined more than a dozen cities and towns. The Hudson was a faintly silvery ribbon flowing down placidly from a far-distant source. Because of the ice cake in the Narrows its level had risen two or three feet, but now it flowed smoothly over that great obstacle, melting and carrying it away toward the sea.
The fighting plane roared around in huge circles, seeming strangely alone in the vast expanse of air. One searchlight from below moved restlessly about the sky. A second joined it, then a third. One by one a dozen or more of long, pencil-like beams of light shot up into the sky and moved here and there in seeming confusion, but actually according to a carefully prearranged plan. A hooded red light showed below the biplane in which Teddy and Davis were awaiting some sign of the black flyer. That had been agreed upon, and none of the searchlight beams flashed upon the circling machine. From time to time Davis shut off the motors, and the two of them lifted the earflaps of their helmets to listen eagerly for the musical humming that would herald Varrhus’ approach.
Far to the east they could see where the faintly luminous waters of the ocean came up to and stopped at the darker masses of the land. The harbor below them glittered in the moonlight. The only peculiarity in the scene was the absence of the little harbor craft that ply about busily by day and night upon their multifarious errands. They were all securely docked. The wharves, too, were dark and silent. All the maritime industry of New York was at a standstill.
The Murray Leinster Megapack Page 10