by Unknown
Then he left--to return at noon with the promised delegation of generals, admirals, statesmen and financiers.
They were all frankly sceptical, though realizing that Henderson Blake was not a man given to exaggeration. Nor did their scepticism altogether vanish when Kendrick had ended his bizarre story with a demonstration of the invisibility device.
Murmurs of amazement ran around the laboratory, it is true, but the more hard-headed of his spectators charged him with having invented the apparatus himself. Though they didn't come right out and say so, they seemed to imply that he was seeking publicity.
Annoyedly, Kendrick tried to refute their charges. But even as he was summoning words, refutation utter and complete came from the air.
A low, humming vibration sounded, grew in volume till it filled the room--and as suddenly ceased: The light of midday faded to twilight.
"The disc!" gasped Kendrick, rushing to the west windows.
They followed, tense with awe. And there, between earth and sun, its myriad towers and spires refracting a weird radiance, hovered that vast flying city.
"My God!" muttered a famous general, staring as though he had seen a ghost.
A great statesman opened his lips, but no words came.
"Appalling! Incredible!" burst from others of that stunned assemblage.
* * * * *
Their comments were cut short by a broadcast voice, thin and clear, tremendously amplified, a voice Kendrick recognized at once as that of Cor.
"People of America!" it said. "We of the planet Vada have come to conquer your country. You will be given forty-eight hours to lay down your arms. If complete surrender has not been made by high noon, two days from now, New York will be destroyed."
The voice ceased. The humming recommenced--waned in volume till it died away. Twilight turned once more to midday.
Peering fixedly through the west windows of the laboratory, the little assemblage saw the disc swallowed up in the clear blue sky.
Then they turned, faced one another gravely.
Outside, on the streets, confusion reigned. In newspaper plants, presses were whirling. In telegraph and cable offices, keys were ticking. From radio towers, waves were speeding.
Within an hour, the nation and the world knew of this planetary invader and its staggering ultimatum.
Naturally, the government at Washington refused to meet these shameful terms. Military and naval forces were rushed to the threatened metropolis. The Atlantic Fleet steamed up from Hampton Roads under forced draught and assembled in the outer harbor. Thousands of planes gathered at Mitchell Field and other nearby aerodromes.
* * * * *
But where was the enemy? He must be miles up in space, Kendrick knew, as he toiled feverishly in the laboratory over his experiment after a sleepless night. For had that flying city been nearer earth, it could not have maintained invisibility without that peculiar humming vibration.
Scout planes urged on by impatient squadron commanders, climbed till they reached their ceilings, searching in vain. They could encounter nothing, see nothing of the invader.
Thus passed a morning of growing tension.
But by noon of that day, with a bare twenty-four hours left before the expiration of the ultimatum, the disc came down, showed itself boldly.
There followed stunning disasters.
One salvo, and the ray shot down--the Atlantic Fleet, the pride of America, burst and melted in flaming hell. Squadrons of planes, carrying tons of bombs, frizzled like moths in the air. Mighty projectiles hurled by land batteries were deflected off on wild trajectories.
Appalled, the nation and the world followed in lurid extras these crushing defeats.
By nightfall of that day, all seemed lost. All opposition had been obliterated. America must capitulate or perish. It had until the next noon to decide which.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, in that great Brooklyn laboratory, Kendrick was working against time, besieged by frantic delegations of the nation's leaders. They knew now that their one hope lay in him. Was he succeeding? Was there even any hope?
Face haggard, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, he waved them away, went on with his work.
"I will tell you--as soon as I know."
That was all he would say.
Followed a night that was the blackest in all history, though the myriad stars of heaven shone tauntingly brilliant in the summer sky.
At length, as dawn was breaking. Kendrick paused in his labors.
"There!" he said, grimly, surveying an apparatus that seemed to involve the entire facilities of the laboratory. "It is done! Now then--will it work?"
The delegation were called to witness the test.
Henderson Blake was among them, as was Marjorie. She stepped forward, as he prepared to make the demonstration.
"I know, somehow, you're going to be successful!" she murmured, pressing his hand, meeting his eyes with a smile of confidence.
"I hope you're right--Marjorie!" he replied, letting slip the last word almost unconsciously.
Her face colored warmly as the stepped back and rejoined her father.
Kendrick's heart was beating fast as he turned to his instruments. How could he fail, with faith like that behind him?--love, even, perhaps! He mustn't fail--nor would he, if his theories were sound.
* * * * *
Addressing the assemblage, he explained briefly the complicated apparatus.
"These towers," he said, pointing to four steel structures about ten feet high, arranged at the corners of a square roughly twenty feet across, "are miniature radio masts. The area enclosed by them, we will assume, is the city of New York. That metal disc suspended above the area represents the invader. It contains a miniature heat-generator such as I was experimenting with recently in the Arizona desert."
He paused, threw a switch. Somewhere in the laboratory a dynamo began to whir.
"I am now sending electro-magnetic waves from the four towers," he resumed. "But instead of broadcasting them in every direction. I am bending them in concave cathode of force over the city. You may picture this cathode as an invisible shield, if you choose, but it is more than that. It it a reflector. If my theories are right, the radio-energetic ray I am about to project upon it from my miniature disc will be flung back to its source as though it had been a ray of light falling on a mirror. The success of the experiment depends upon what the result will be."
* * * * *
Kendrick ceased, moved toward a rheostat.
As he made ready to touch it, a breathless tension settled upon the assemblage. Upon the outcome of what was now to happen rested the fate of America--and the world.
Calmly, though every fiber of his being was at breaking stress, the young scientist opened the rheostat.
For an instant, the ray seared down--then, as it boomeranged back, the disc burst into flame, dissolved, disintegrated. A thin dust, like carbon, slowly settled to the laboratory floor.
Cutting off the current from the radio towers, Kendrick faced them, a light of triumph in his tired eyes.
"You see--it works," he said.
They saw. Beyond a doubt, it worked!
And what Kendrick saw, as his eyes met Marjorie's, made him forget his fatigue.
* * * * *
The rest was a mad scramble of preparation. Only a few brief hours remained, and much was to be done.
The application of the principle that had just been demonstrated involved a hook-up from the Consolidated Electric laboratory with every broadcasting station in the metropolitan area, power being supplied by commandeering every generating plant within a radius of fifty miles.
The city, moreover, had to be evacuated of all but the few brave hundreds who volunteered to stand by their posts at radio stations and generating plants.
As for Kendrick, it was the busiest, most hectic morning he had ever experienced. Only the realization of a girl's love and a nation's trust enabled him to overcome the exhaustion of two sleepless
nights.
At length, a little before eleven, all was in readiness. Just two questions troubled the young scientist's mind. Had the people of the disc learned of their preparations to counter the attack? And would the improvised broadcasting apparatus of the area stand the stupendous strain that would be placed upon it if the ray came down?
The first of these questions was answered, staggeringly, at a quarter after eleven.
"Kendrick--oh, my God!" cried Blake, bursting into the laboratory. "Marjorie--they've got her again! Look! Read this!"
He thrust out a piece of paper. Kendrick took it, read:
Your daughter will be my queen, after this noon.
"Where'd you get it?" he gasped.
"One of the invisible devils thrust it into my hand right out in the street, not five minutes ago," Blake explained, trembling with anguish. "Do you realize what this means, Kendrick? She's on the disc now--and in a scant three-quarters of an hour...."
"Yes, I realize!" his voice came grimly. "And I realize, too, that they don't know their fate. They'll stay. There's forty-five minutes yet. We can't abandon our defense against the ray, not even for Marjorie. But I'll go, I'll rescue her--or die with her!"
And even as Blake mutely reached out his hand to grip that of the determined young man who stood before him. Kendrick touched his wrist mechanism and went invisible.
* * * * *
Once on the street, he pressed the escalator button as well--and by the strength of the vibrations that followed, he knew he must be very close within that mysterious lifting zone.
Running west a block, he found it growing stronger.
Fairly racing now, he continued on toward the river, progress unhampered in the deserted streets. Suddenly, with a thrill of exultation, he felt himself swept up, whirled away toward that great shimmering hulk against the sun.
"What hope?" he was thinking. "What possible hope?" And the answer came: Cor!
Reaching the disc, he switched out the escalator influence and hastened across the city to that monumental structure of jade-green stone.
The mighty little dwarf would be up there in his glittering mosaic apartment, or in his pinnacle laboratory, perhaps, ready to pull the lever that would release that stupendous blast of heat.
Gaining the jewelled door of the monarch's quarters at last, after escaping detection by a hair's breadth more than once, he pressed the button outside, just as the guard had done that first time.
In response, the door opened--and there stood Cor.
* * * * *
He stood there an instant, that is, while the expression on his leathery face went from inquiry to alarm. Then, as Kendrick burst into the room and shut the door, he went invisible.
In that same instant, the young scientist's eyes beheld a sight that caused his heart to leap. There sat Marjorie, bound in a chair, an expression half of hope, half of dejection, on her face.
"It's I--Gordon!" he called. "Take courage!"
"Oh, I prayed so you'd come--and you came!" she murmured as her face lighted. Then, tensely, she added, "The door--look out!"
Kendrick wheeled, and just in time. The door was opening.
"Not so fast!" he called, lunging.
His hands gripped the dwarf, yanked him back, throttled him before he could emit a cry, pushed the door shut.
Cor struggled like a madman, but it was futile. Kendrick's hands cut into his throat like a vice. After a moment or two, he gasped, relaxed.
Releasing his grip then, Kendrick felt for his wrist, stripped off his bracelet--whereupon the dwarf became visible. His face was putty-white. He was either dead or unconscious.
Restoring his own visibility then, he advanced to Marjorie, swiftly freed her.
"Take this!" he said, handing her Cor's bracelet.
She slipped it on.
"Now let's tie him and get out of here. He may be dead, but we can't take any chances."
* * * * *
The dwarf wasn't dead, however, for he groaned and opened his eyes as they lifted him into the chair.
"You win, Professor--but it avails you nothing!" He smiled maliciously. "My capture, my death even, will not prevent the ray. The orders have been given. It will be projected sharp at twelve. You but go to your doom!"
"That," said Kendrick, "is a matter of opinion."
Swiftly they bound him, gagged him.
"And now," he added, "we wish you good day--and such fate as you deserve!"
Then, turning to Marjorie:
"Your hand again!"
There was a new tenderness in its soft warmth that thrilled him.
They touched their buttons, went invisible.
Silently, then, they stole from the apartment. Swiftly they made their way down to the concourse, raced across the city to the amber court, descended to the trap-door.
It must be nearly twelve, Kendrick knew. He couldn't look at his watch, for it as well as himself was invisible. Indeed, even as they stood there, poised for the plunge, a faint whistle rose from below.
Marjorie trembled.
"Steady!" he spoke. "Some of them always blow a minute or two before. Are you ready?"
"Yes!"
"Then press your button--jump!"
Even as they leapt, the sickening thought came that perhaps the escalator ray was no longer running. But the fear was unwarranted. They were caught up, whirled gently downward.
Moving along laterally, as they descended, they were able to land without difficulty in the middle of a deserted street near the Consolidated Electric laboratory.
"Thank heaven!" she sighed, as their feet touched solid ground. They pressed off both buttons, becoming visible once more.
"Echo!" he agreed. "So let's--"
* * * * *
But Kendrick never completed that sentence--for now whistles all over the metropolitan area, rising from the generating plants, announced the ominous hour.
It was high noon. The ultimatum had expired.
Lifting tense faces to the disc, they waited. Would that stupendous ray be hurled back upon itself? Or would it sear through their makeshift defense, plunging them and the whole great metropolis into oblivion?
Suddenly, cataclysmically, the answer came.
There burst a withering whirlwind from the disc. It struck that mighty concave cathode of interlaced waves above the city. There followed an instant's clash of titanic forces. Then the cathode triumphed, hurled it back.
Rocked by a concussion as of two worlds in impact, blinded by a glare that made the sunlight seem feeble in comparison. Marjorie and Kendrick clung together, while the disc grew into a satellite of calcium fire in the sky.
Presently, as the conflagration waned, they opened their eyes. Gravely, but with deep thanksgiving, they searched each other's faces. In them they read deep understanding, too, and a new hope.
"I think we'd better go and find father," she said at length, quietly.
"I think so too!" he agreed.
As they headed toward the laboratory, a fine, powdery dust, like volcanic ash was falling.
It continued to fall until the city streets were covered to a depth of an inch or more.
Thus passed the menace of Vada.
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