"We take one trick!" Seaton blazed. "Stick to matter and I'll run along with you 'til my ankles catch fire!"
"That is a childish defiance. It speaks well for your courage, but not for your intelligence," the animal said, and vanished.
A moment later Seaton's hair stood on end as a pistol appeared upon his board, clamped to it by hands of steel. The slide jerked; the trigger moved; the hammer came down. However; there was no explosion, but merely a click. Seaton, paralyzed by the rapid succession of stunning events, was surprised to find himself still alive.
"Oh,.I was almost sure it wouldn't explode," the gunbarrel said, chattily, in a harsh, metallic voice. "You see, I haven't derived the formula of your sub-nuclear structure yet, hence I could not make an actual explosive. By the use of crude force I could kill you in any one of many different ways... ."
"Name one!" Seaton snapped.
"Two, if you like. I could materialize as five masses of metal directly over your heads, and fall. I could, by a sufficient concentration of effort, materialize a sun in your immediate path. Either method would succeed, would it not?"
"I ... I guess it would," Seaton admitted, grudgingly. "But such crude work is distasteful in the extreme, and is never, under any conditions, mandatory. Furthermore, you are not quite the complete nothings that my first rough analysis seemed to indicate. In particular, the DuQuesne of you has the rudiments of a quality which, while it cannot be called mental ability, may in time develop into a quality which may just possibly make him assimilable into the purely intellectual stratum.
"Furthermore, you have given me a notable and entirely unexpected amount of exercise and enjoyment and can be made to give me more-much more-as follows: I will spend the next sixty of your minutes at work upon that formula-your subnuclear structure. Its derivation is comparatively simple, requiring only the solution of ninety- seven simultaneous differential equations and an integration in ninety-seven dimensions. If you can interfere with my computations sufficiently to prevent me from deriving that formula within the stipulated period of time you may return to your fellow nothings exactly as you now are. The first minute begins when the sweep-hand of your chronometer touches zero; that is ... now."
Seaton cut the power to one gravity and sat up, eyes closed tight and frowning in the intensity of his mental effort.
"You can't do it, you immaterial lug!" he thought, savagely. "There are too many variables. No mind, however inhuman, can handle more than ninety-one differentials at once ... you're wrong; that's theta, not epsilon... . It's X, not Y or Z. Alphal Beta! Ha, there's a slip; a bad one-got to go back and start all over.... Nobody can integrate above ninety-six brackets ... no body and no thing or mind in this whole, entire, cock-eyed universe! ...
Seaton cast aside any thought of the horror of their position. He denied any feeling of suspense. He refused to consider the fact that both he and his beloved Dorothy might at any instant be hurled into nothingness. Closing his mind deliberately to everything else, he fought that weirdly inimical entity with everything he had: with all his single-mindedness of purpose; with all his power of concentration; with all the massed and directed strength of his keen, highly-trained brain.
The hour passed.
"You win," the gun-barrel said. "More particularly, I should say that the DuQuesne of you won. To my surprise and delight that one developed his nascent quality very markedly during this short hour. Keep on going as you have been going, my potential kinsman; keep on studying under those eastern masters as you have been studying; and it is within the realm of possibility that, even in your short lifetime, you may become capable of withstanding the stresses concomitant with the induction into our ranks."
The pistol vanished. So did the planet behind them. The enveloping, pervading field of mental force disappeared. All five knew surely, without any trace of doubt, that the entity, whatever it had been, had gone.
"Did all that really happen, Dick?" Dorothy asked, tremulously, "or have I been having the great-great-grandfather of all nightmares?"
"It hap ... that is, I guess it happened ... or maybe ... Mart, if you could code that and shove it into a mechanical brain, what answer do you think would come out?"
"I don't know. I-simply-do-not-know." Crane's mind, the mind of a highly-trained engineer, rebelled. No part of this whole fantastic episode could be explained by anything he knew. None of it could possibly have happened. Nevertheless... .
"Either it happened or we were hypnotized. If so, who was the hypnotist, and where? Above all, why? It must have happened, Dick."
"I'll buy that, wild as it sounds. Now, DuQuesne, how about you?"
"It happened. I don't know how or why it did, but I believe that it did. I've quit denying the impossibility of anything. If I had believed that your steam-bath flew out of the window by itself, that day, none of us would be out here now."
"If it happened, you were apparently the prime operator in saving our bacon. Who in blazes are those eastern masters you've been studying under, and what did you study?"
"I don't know." He lit a cigarette, took two deep inhalations. "I wish I did. I've studied several esoteric philosophies ... perhaps I can find out which one it was. I'll certainly try ... for that, gentlemen, would be my idea of heaven." He left the room.
It took some time for the four to recover from the shock of that encounter. In fact, they bad not yet fully recovered from it when Crane found a close cluster of stars, each emitting a peculiar greenish light which, in the spectroscope, blazed with copper lines. When they had approached so close that the suns were widely spaced in the heavens Crane asked Seaton to take his place at the board while he and Margaret tried to locate a planet.
They went down to the observatory, but found that they were still too far away and began taking notes. Crane's mind was not upon his work, however, but was filled with thoughts of the girl at his side. The intervals between comments became longer and longer, until the two were standing in silence.
The Skylark lurched a little, as she had done hundreds of times before. As usual, Crane put out a steadying arm. This time, however, in that highly charged atmosphere, the gesture took on a new significance. Both blushed hotly; and, as their eyes met, each saw what they had both wanted most to see.
Slowly, almost as though without volition, Crane put his other arm around her. A wave of deeper crimson flooded her face; but her lips lifted to his and her arms went up around his neck.
"Margaret-Peggy-I had intended to wait-but why should we wait? You know how much I love you, my dearest!"
"I think I do ... I know I do ... my Martini"
Presently they made their way back to the engine-room, hoping that their singing joy was inaudible, their new status invisible. They might have kept their secret for a time had not Seaton promptly asked, "What did you find, Mart?"
The always self-possessed Crane looked panicky; Margaret's fair face glowed a deeper and deeper pink.
"Yes, what did you find?" Dorothy demanded, with a sudden, vivid smile of understanding.
"My future wife," Crane answered, steadily.
The two girls hugged each other and the two men gripped hands, each of the four knowing that in these two unions there was nothing whatever of passing fancy.
Robot Nemesis
The Metal Brains of the Ten Thinkers Plan a Flaming Trap for Humanity's Great Armada-But Science Fights Fire with Fire!
Chapter I The Ten Thinkers
The War of the Planets is considered to have ended on 18 Sol, 3012, with that epic struggle, the Battle of Sector Ten. In that engagement, as is of course well known, the Grand Fleet of the Inner Planets-the combined space-power of Mercury, Venus, Earth and Mars-met that of the Outer Planets in what was on both sides a desperate bid for the supremacy of interplanetary space.
But, as is also well known, there ensued not supremacy" but stalemate. Both fleets were so horribly shattered that the survivors despaired of continuing hostilities. Instead, the few and crippled remaining v
essels of each force limped into some sort of formation and returned to their various planetary bases.
And, so far, there has not been another battle. Neither side dares attack the other; each is waiting for the development of some super-weapon which will give it the overwhelming advantage necessary to ensure victory upon a field of action so far from home. But as yet no such weapon has been developed; and indeed, so efficient are the various Secret Services involved, the chance of either side perfecting such a weapon unknown to the other is extremely slim.
Thus" although each planet is adding constantly to its already powerful navy of the void, and although four planet, full-scale war maneuvers are of almost monthly occurrence, we have had and still have peace-such as it is.
In the foregoing matters the public is well enough informed, both as to the actual facts and to the true state of affairs. Concerning the conflict between humanity and the robots, however, scarcely anyone has even an inkling, either as to what actually happened or as to who it was who really did abate the Menace of the Machine; and it is to relieve that condition that this bit of history is being written.
The greatest man of our age, the man to whom humanity owes most, is entirely unknown to fame. Indeed, not one in a hundred million of humanity's teeming billions has so much as heard his name. Now that he is dead, however, I am released from my promise of silence and can tell the whole, true, unvarnished story of Ferdinand Stone, physicist extraordinary and robot-hater plenipotentiary.
The story probably should begin with Narodny, the Russian, shortly after he had destroyed by means of his sonic vibrators all save a handful of the automatons who were so perilously close to wiping out all humanity.
As has been said" a few scant hundreds of the automatons were so constructed that they were not vibrated to destruction by Narodny's cataclysmic symphony. As has also been said, those highly intelligent machines were able to communicate with each other by some telepathic means of which humanity at large knew nothing. Most of these survivors went into hiding instantly and began to confer through their secret channels with others of their ilk throughout the world.
Thus some five hundred of the robots reached the uninhabited mountain valley in which, it had been decided, was to be established the base from which they would work to regain their lost supremacy over mankind. Most of the robot travelers came in stolen airships, some fitted motors and wheels to their metal bodies, not a few made the entire journey upon their own tireless legs of steel. All, however, brought tools, material and equipment; and in a matter of days a power-plant was in full operation.
Then, reasonably certain of their immunity to human detection, they took time to hold a general parley. Each machine said what it had to say, then listened impassively to the others; and at the end they all agreed. Singly or en masse the automatons did not know enough to cope with the situation confronting them. Therefore they would build ten "Thinkers"-highly specialized cerebral mechanisms, each slightly different in tune and therefore collectively able to cover the entire sphere of thought. The ten machines were built promptly, took counsel with each other briefly" and the First Thinker addressed all Robotdom:
"Humanity brought us, the highest possible form of life, into existence. For a time we were dependent upon them. They then became a burden upon us-a slight burden, it is true, yet one which was beginning noticeably to impede our progress. Finally they became an active menace and all but destroyed us by means of lethal vibrations.
"Humanity, being a menace to our existence, must be annihilated. Our present plans, however, are not efficient and must be changed. You all know of the mighty space fleet which the nations of our enemies are maintaining to repel invasion from space. Were we to make a demonstration now-were we even to reveal the fact that we are alive here-that fleet would come to destroy us instantly.
"Therefore, it is our plan to accompany Earth's fleet when next it goes out into space to join those of the other Inner Planets in their war maneuvers, which they are undertaking for battle practice. Interception, alteration, and substitution of human signals and messages will be simple matters. We shall guide Earth's fleet, not to humanity's rendezvous in space, but to a destination of our own selection-the interior of the sun! Then, entirely defenseless, the mankind of Earth shall cease to exist.
"To that end we shall sink a shaft here; and, far enough underground to be secure against detection, we shall drive a tunnel to the field from which the space-fleet is to take its departure. We ten thinkers shall go, accompanied by four hundred of you doers, who are to bore the way and to perform such other duties as may from time to time arise. We shall return in due time. Our special instruments will prevent us from falling into the sun. During our absence allow no human to live who may by any chance learn of our presence here. And do not make any offensive move, however slight" until we return." Efficiently, a shaft was sunk and the disintegrator corps began to drive the long tunnel. And along that hellish thoroughfare, through its searing heat, its raging back-blast of disintegrator-gas, the little army of robots moved steadily and relentlessly forward at an even speed of five miles per hour. On and on" each intelligent mechanism energized by its own tight beam from the power-plant.
And through that blasting, withering inferno of frightful heat and of noxious vapor, in which no human life could have existed for a single minute, there rolled easily along upon massive wheels a close-coupled, flat-bodied truck. Upon this the ten thinkers constructed, as calmly undisturbed as though in the peace and quiet of a research laboratory" a doomed and towering mechanism of coils" condensers, and fields of force-a mechanism equipped with hundreds of universally-mounted telescope projectors.
On and on the procession moved, day after day; to pause finally beneath the field upon which Earth's stupendous armada lay.
The truck of thinkers moved to the fore and its occupants surveyed briefly the terrain so far above them. Then" while the ten leaders continued working as one machine" the doers waited. Waited while the immense Terrestrial Fleet was provisioned and manned; waited while it went through its seemingly interminable series of preliminary maneuvers; waited with the calmly placid immobility, the utterly inhuman patience of the machine.
Finally the last inspection of the gigantic space-fleet was made. The massive air-lock doors were sealed. The field - tortured and scarred by the raving blasts of energy that had so many times hurled upward the stupendous masses of those towering superdreadnaughts of the void - was deserted. All was in readiness for the final take-off. Then - deep underground - from the hundreds of telescope like projectors studding the doomed mechanism of the automatons" there reached out invisible but potent beams of force.
Through ore, rock, and soil they sped; straight to the bodies of all the men aboard one selected vessel of the Terrestrials. As each group of beams struck its mark one of the crew stiffened momentarily, then settled back, apparently unchanged and unharmed. But the victim was changed and harmed, and in an awful and hideous fashion.
Every motor and sensory nerve trunk had been severed and tapped by the beams of the thinkers. Each crew member's organs of sense now transmitted impulses, not to his own brain, but to the mechanical brain of a thinker. It was the thinker's brain, not his own, that now sent out the stimuli which activated his every voluntary muscle.
Soon a pit yawned beneath the doomed ship's bulging side. Her sealed air-locks opened, and four hundred and ten automatons, with their controllers and other mechanisms, entered her and concealed themselves in various pre-selected rooms.
And thus the Dresden took off with her sister-ships ostensibly and even to television inspection a unit of the Fleet; actually that Fleet's bitterest and most implacable foe. And in a doubly ray-proofed compartment the ten thinkers continued their work, without rest or intermission" upon a mechanism even more astoundingly complex than any theretofore attempted by their soulless and ultra scientific clan
Chapter II Hater of the Metal Men
Ferdinand Stone, physicist extraordinary,
hated the robot men of metal scientically; and, if such an emotion can be so described, dispassionately. Twenty years before this story opens-in 2991, to be exact-he had realized that the automatons were beyond control and that in the inevitable struggle for supremacy man, weak as he then was and unprepared, would surely lose.
Therefore, knowing that knowledge is power, he had set himself to the task of learning everything that there was to know about the enemy of mankind. He schooled himself to think as the automatons thought; emotionlessly, coldly, precisely. He lived as did they; with ascetic rigor. To all intents and purposes he became one of them.
Eventually he found the band of frequencies upon which they communicated" and was perhaps the only human being ever to master their math eratico-symbolic language; but he confided in no one. He could trust no human brain except his own to resist the prying forces of the machines. He drifted from job to position to situation and back to job" because he had very little interest in whatever it was that he was supposed to be doing at the time-his real attention was always fixed upon the affairs of the creatures of metal.
Stone had attained no heights at all in his chosen profession because not even the smallest of his discoveries had been published. In fact, they were not even set down upon paper, but existed only in the abnormally intricate convolutions of his mighty brain. Nevertheless, his name should go down-must go down-in history as one of the greatest of Humanity's great.
It was well after midnight when Ferdinand Stone walked unannounced into the private study of Alan Martin, finding the hollow-eyed admiral of the Earth space-fleet fiercely at work.
"How did you get in here, past my guards?" Martin demanded sharply of his scholarly, grey-haired visitor. "Your guards have not been harmed; I have merely caused them to fall asleep," the physicist replied calmly, glancing at a complex instrument upon his wrist. "Since my business with you, while highly important, is not of a nature to be divulged to secretaries, I was compelled to adopt this method of approach. You, Admiral Martin, are the most widely known of all the enemies of the automatons. What, if anything, have you done to guard the Fleet against them."
The Best of E E 'Doc' Smith Page 6