Collected Fiction (1940-1963)

by William P. McGivern

  A fantastic idea was hammering at Ward’s brain. If he could take this ship into the air he could land on the opposite side of the planetoid. It might be only a temporary respite, but it was better than nothing.

  The shouts of the approaching pack were ringing with exultant discovery now. They had probably seen the door of the ship close.

  Ward sprang to the controls. They weren’t all familiar to him, but he was experienced enough to guess their use.

  Quickly he made the necessary adjustments. As his hand reached for the contact lever he heard a sudden hammering against the door of the ship. Hoarse, screaming shouts sounded hollowly through the thick metal walls of the ship.

  “Come and take me, damn you!” Ward grated.

  His hand flicked the contact lever into position with a savage snap.

  A thunderous roar blasted into his ears as the rocket exhausts roared into furious life. Ward listened incredulously. The deep-throated, powerful discharge of energy was completely out of proportion to the size and purpose of the ship.

  Its reverberating chant of power sounded more like the blast of a mighty space fighter, than the rockets of a decrepit ship built for short hops through the atmosphere.

  Almost apprehensively Ward moved the contact lever forward into firing position.

  The mighty bellow of the rocket blasts faded almost instantly to a smooth level hymn of leashed power. The ship shuddered sensitively as the exhaust valves stored thousands of pounds of blasting energy in a fraction of a second; then with a hissing scream as it slashed through the dense atmosphere of Exile Planetoid, the ship rocketed into the void!

  CHAPTER VII

  An Incredible Discovery

  THE jarring abruptness of the blastoff stunned Ward for an instant. When he had heard the throbbing roar of the rocket exhausts, he had guessed the truth, but the shocking reality of the blast-off completely confirmed his guess.

  He was in a spaceship, a compact, magnificently operating space ship which had been deliberately designed by the inhabitants of Exile Planetoid to look like an abandoned land craft.

  Space transmitters, guns and space ships, all in operation on Exile Planetoid. Ward cursed bitterly the negligent stupidity of the Earth Council that had allowed the exiled war dogs to build or obtain these instruments and weapons.

  But it was too late for recriminations now. Ward knew that a job was ahead for Earth, the same job that it had faced in other times of its history. And that job was the suppressing again of the murderous hordes who were rising to trample under their iron heels the rights of mankind.

  He turned to the controls. An illumined visi-screen which he had not noticed before showed that the ship was plummeting directly toward the pin point of red light that was Mars.

  The velocity of his ship was near that of light, itself, faster than he had ever traveled in Earth ships.

  Ward frowned nervously as he realized that the ship was apparently set on a definite course—and that course was for the inaccessible, impenetrable red planet of Mars.

  He knew it was impossible for any space ship to reach Mars. Many Earth ships had tried and failed. Some had never returned. The mighty electrical storms that raged above the atmosphere of Mars made the planet a deadly pariah of the solar system.

  For a moment Ward debated the advisability of attempting to change the course of the speeding ship. Finally he decided against it. A grim smile touched his lips as he made his decision and settled back against the ragged upholstery of the pilot’s chair. A deep, intuitive hunch was working on him. As the little ship flashed through the void, Ward’s eyes were fixed on the mysterious, sullen pinpoint of red light that was Mars, and there was a thoughtful, speculative expression on his face.

  HOURS later when the red eye of Mars had swollen to a huge orb, obliterating almost half the visi-screen, Ward straightened up, an anxious frown on his face.

  The ship would soon be within the gravitational attraction of the red planet and then it might be too late for him to change the course of the ship. Already he could see the white, vaporish mists which enshrouded the planet and he knew that their harmless appearance was extremely deceptive.

  Those mists were the visual evidence of the titanic electro-magnetic storms that broke about the planet. Soon the ship would be feeling their effect . . .

  Still Ward sat motionlessly before the controls, making no move to alter the course of the ship.

  Several minutes later, he suddenly noticed that the course of the ship was changing. Quickly he checked the controls, realizing that a gear or lever might have slipped.

  But all the instruments were in perfect order and position.

  Then Ward glanced upward and noticed the white screen with the criss-crossed lines for the first time. The glowing red ball above the screen was in motion, veering slowly down to the left.

  Ward realized suddenly that the ship was veering in the same direction. The glowing ball hesitated for an instant, then shifted back to the right and moved diagonally to the far corner of the screen.

  The ship swung to the right, and the differential altimeter recorded a sharp gain in the flight height of the ship.

  Ward’s hands clenched excitedly. The ship was definitely following the gyrations of that glowing ball above the white screen.

  For a half hour the ship maneuvered according to the movement of the lazily floating ball, and then Ward glanced at the visi-screen and saw that the ship was almost in the electrical storm area.

  Within another thousand miles he was near enough to see the mighty mile-long streaks of brilliant lighting that stabbed through space like the lances of mighty giants. No thunder accompanied the terrifying display, but the eerie silence of the gigantic unleashing of energy only added to its effect.

  The ship was veering sharply now—right—left—down—Ward flashed a glance at the controls. They were set as they had been leaving Exile Planetoid. The ship was obviously being directed by other than its own controls.

  The blinding glare of the raging electrical storm was in his eyes now, searing his gaze painfully. The entire ship was bathed in glaring white luminence, and the titanic bolts of lightning were playing about the ship like immense, gleaming swords.

  Great waves of burning light swept over the ship, but miraculously, there was always a dark hole in the roaring sheets of flame through which the little ship slipped unerringly.

  SWEAT was pouring from Ward’s pores and his hands were clenched until the knuckles whitened with the strain. Never had he imagined that the void could be so starkly fearful and horrible. One bolt of lightning, one sheet of flame would be enough to instantly transform the ship and himself to a tiny black cinder.

  Still the small ship, an infinitesimal speck against the vastness of this roaring storm, flashed steadfastly on, veering and cutting sharply, but always finding a safe pathway through the maelstrom of the unimaginably vast inferno.

  Ward lost track of time. The only thing that seemed real was the blinding explosions of Nature’s fury, and the almost unbearable heat generated by the storm.

  How long the passage took, he had no way of knowing. One instant he was diving headlong into an engulfing wave of white flame—the next instant the ship was through a dark hole and into the heavy, quiet atmosphere of Mars. The change was so abrupt that Ward shook his head dazedly.

  The turbulence of the electrical storm was behind him, and ahead of him he could see the surface of the great planet, Mars.

  The sprawling panoramic vista that spread under the diving nose of his ship left him breathlessly stunned.

  He had expected barren plains and uncultivated vegetation, wildness and desolation. These had been his subconscious idea of what Mars, the mysterious, uninhabited planet would be like.

  Instead he was flashing downward into the midst of great vast structures, mighty buildings of gleaming metal, an immense city comparable to the largest cities of Earth.

  In that one panoramic impression he saw a vast space landing fiel
d, dozens and dozens of sky-piercing mooring towers and rows of expulsion tubes.

  For a dazed instant he stared bewilderedly at the vast city. His thoughts were spinning desperately. This could mean but one thing!

  The sudden materialization of the sprawling structures of the Martian city had so stunned him that for an instant he had forgotten the plummeting speed of his ship.

  As he saw the ground leaping up at him he suddenly realized his danger. With a swift snap of his wrist he jammed the repulsion rockets into full life.

  The ship bucked strainingly as its terrific speed was abruptly opposed by the powerful forward rockets.

  But Ward’s swift action came too late. The ground sprang up at the speeding ship. Ward frantically released the full charge of the emergency crash propulsion rockets. Their tremendous blast checked the ship, almost halting it in mid-air.

  Ward cut all power as the ship fell.

  He heard the jarring crash of its impact but nothing else. His head snapped forward against the instrument panel and darkness swept over him, obliterating his senses.

  CHAPTER VIII

  Trapped!

  WHEN light began to seep slowly through the mists of black fog that enshrouded Ward’s brain, he shook his head groggily. He realized dimly that he was seated in a chair facing a broad expanse of whiteness.

  This whiteness eventually came into focus as a huge window through which he could see a vast expansive space landing field spreading for many miles before his tired eyes.

  Gradually full consciousness returned. His head ached intolerably, but other than that he seemed to be all right. The memory of his trip through the inferno of flame to Mars suddenly swept over him.

  One hand touched his forehead wonderingly.

  He had crashed . . .

  What else had happened to him?

  “Aha!” a mockingly solicitous voice sounded behind him. “Our visitor awakes!”

  Ward felt a chilling shudder creep up his spine as he heard the mocking voice. His muscles tensed, as he swung about in the chair, disbelieving the evidence of his ears.

  Seated behind a huge gleaming desk at the far end of the high-ceilinged room, his dark hair glinting in the bright light, was the thin arrogant figure of Major Slade—Major Slade of Earth’s

  Space Navy!

  A mirthless grin touched his thin lips, but his small glittering eyes were as cold as twin diamonds. A contemptuous, mocking expression twisted his thin features.

  “You appear surprised,” Major Slade said blandly, “to see me.”

  Ward stared at the man incredulously, almost doubting his eyes. He hardly dared ask himself the questions that were hammering at his reason.

  His eyes swung about the huge, luxuriously fitted room which overlooked the vast space landing field. Charts and graphs covered the walls and behind the gleaming desk a great white screen, protected with heavy glass, had been erected. It was criss-crossed with thousand of lines and at the top of the screen a flaming ball hung suspended. The screen. Ward realized with quickening interest, was an immensely larger edition of the one in the space ship he had stolen from Exile Planetoid.

  “An interesting device,” the major said, still smiling mockingly. “It is a directional screen which enables space craft equipped with its model to safely penetrate the normally fatal electrical areas which we have synthetically thrown about the planet.”

  Ward did not immediately grasp the import of this explanation. But when its significant implication did sink in, he felt a wave of chilling apprehension sweep over him.

  The major’s laugh was coldly amused as he saw the emotion on Ward’s face.

  “I see,” he said, “that you are beginning to understand. A pity that it took you so long, isn’t it? That is, it’s a pity for you. For it is no longer of any importance what you understand or discover. You are no longer dangerous. The last chapter is about to begin and you, or anyone else for that matter, cannot prevent it.”

  WARD was staring at the man in fascination as he spoke. The implications behind his words were monstrous.

  Ward felt as if his eyes had suddenly been opened for the first time, permitting him a view of the complete pattern of events and their significance.

  It was not a pretty picture.

  A door on one side of the room slid noiselessly open and a brown-skinned, bland little Japanese entered.

  Ward’s eyes swung to the new arrival. His hands tightened into angry fists as he recognized the new arrival as Tojo—the dapper, suave renegade from Exile Panetoid.

  The rough denim clothes had been replaced by an immaculate uniform, and the affected pose of deference had fallen away with them.

  Major Slade rose to his feet and saluted.

  Tojo returned the salute before turning to Ward, a flicker of amusement glinting in his small dark eyes.

  “Ah!” he said softly, “we meet again. I trust the impetuous Lieutenant suffered no serious effects from his rather abrupt landing on our planet. Such clumsiness is excusable in Earth Space pilots. In fact I am delighted at every fresh evidence of the inexpertness of Earth’s fighting forces. It is a definite indication that our pilots will have little difficulty melting them out of the universe.”

  Ward curbed the hot remark that was on his tongue. He realized that words would accomplish nothing. A black despair crept close to him as he observed Tojo’s confident complacence. He couldn’t keep his eyes from shifting to the swarming space landing field that was visible through the great plate window. That explained the Jap’s confidence.

  Tojo’s sharp eyes followed his glance.

  “Very pretty, is it not?” he smiled. “I am gratified at your appreciation. After all, the work here on Mars was commenced almost sixty years ago, and it is worthy of comment.”

  Ward felt a revulsion for the suave-smiling Japanese that was almost enough to turn his stomach. But his words were even more sickening.

  Sixty years ago—

  For sixty years the renegades of Exile Planetoid had been plotting and building while Earth slumbered complacently.

  Major Slade had said that he was too late; that he’d arrived just in time for the last chapter, and Ward suddenly realized what he had meant. The last chapter, the culmination of decades of sly betrayal, could only be an attack on Earth.

  That was the last chapter which was about to be written.

  AN ICY sweat made his forehead clammy as thoughts leaped beyond the present—great fleets of ships blasting savagely into the unprepared, unsuspecting people of Earth—

  Ward shifted slightly in his chair until he faced the thin figure of the major directly. Even greater than his concern for Earth was his hatred of this man.

  Under his blazing gaze the major’s icy poise melted slightly. A faint flush touched his cheek as he read the terrible contempt in Ward’s eyes.

  Ward’s anger was beyond the restraint of caution.

  “You rotten traitor!” he spat the words out.

  The major’s pale thin features were stained red, but his voice was coolly mocking as he said:

  “Very nasty words, Blackson. But I prefer the term ‘opportunist’ myself. It’s obvious that the outmoded democratic principles of Earth are unsuited to the development of the universe. Power and force, judiciously administered of course, are needed to properly exploit the potential wealth of the solar system.”

  Tojo held up a slim brown hand.

  “Let us not argue,” he said. “Actually there is nothing to argue about. Argument will not change the inevitable result. Lieutenant Blackson be so good as to glance at our extremely modern space field again. At the far end you will notice a line of space dreadnaughts, each one superior to any the forces of Earth possess.”

  Ward turned his head and saw the line of ships indicated by Tojo’s pointed finger. They were at the extreme far end of the field, mighty black ships, almost a thousand feet in overall length. From their position in relation to the mammoth expulsion tubes which thrust their huge snouts h
undreds of feet into the air, it was obvious that they were ready for an immediate blast-off into the void.

  Ward realized then that the huge black ship he had seen momentarily in the visi-screen on his first trip to Exile Planetoid had probably been one of these behemoths.

  He turned back to the smiling Japanese, feeling a sickening moment of impotent anger and dread.

  “Those ships,” Tojo said with a soft lisp, “have been under construction for the last ten years. Now they are ready to fulfill the purpose for which they were built. In a very short time, a matter of minutes almost, they will leave for Earth. When they return, part of our debt will be repaid to the arrogant people of Earth who feel it their right to segregate us as if we were mad dogs.

  “Our first attack on Earth will not be our last. The careless citizens of Earth have given us a priceless opportunity in the last century to grow strong, to rebuild our weapons to make ourselves invincible in this stronghold.

  SIXTY years ago the leaders of the miserable tribes on Exile Planetoid discovered a means to cross the void to this planet of Mars. Their first task was to encircle the planet with an electrical barrier which would prevent any snooping patrol ships from Earth arriving here unexpectedly. Immune then from interference, they built this base and resurrected their sciences and industries.

  “Mars is rich in natural resources, and you may be sure they were not neglected. To alleviate suspicion a certain small band was left on Exile Planetoid. Birth records were altered to make it appear as if the population on the planetoid was steadily decreasing. Actually it was gaining each year, and the surplus population was transported here to take up the tasks which were awaiting them.

  “Free from any interruption on the part of Earth we devoted each waking instant to the goal our ancestors set for us; the reconquest of Earth and the subjugation of the inferior races who now rule it. That end, I am happy to say, is almost in view.”