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diff --git a/32618.txt b/32618.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a292425 --- /dev/null +++ b/32618.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1324 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Monsoons of Death, by Gerald Vance + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Monsoons of Death + +Author: Gerald Vance + +Release Date: May 31, 2010 [EBook #32618] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONSOONS OF DEATH *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + MONSOONS OF DEATH + + By GERALD VANCE + + +[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories December +1942. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed.] + +[Illustration: Dreadful weaving shapes slithered through the storm +toward him] + +[Sidenote: Ward Harrison got himself into a barrel of trouble when he +accepted a job at the Martian Observation Station. There were fearful +"things" on Mars....] + + +The gleaming insignia stripes on Lieutenant Ward Harrison's broad +shoulders were less than two days old when he received his first +assignment. + +"Lieutenant Harrison," his commanding officer said, glancing from the +papers he held in his hands to the young man who stood at attention +before his desk, "this will be your first touch of action since you were +commissioned. A lot depends on how you handle yourself." + +"Yes sir," Ward answered. He straightened his already poker-straight +spine. His face was young and serious and intent. There was a blaze of +zeal in his blue eyes and grimness in the tightness of his jaw. But a +lock of blonde hair that fell over his forehead lent an incongruously +boyish cast to his grimly set features. + +His commander, a Planetary Colonel, with thirty years of void experience +behind him, smiled slightly and looked down at the papers in his hands +again. + +"Your training record has been excellent, Harrison," he said, "and I am +gratified to note that you apparently realize the seriousness of our +work." He leaned back in his chair, looked up at the young Lieutenant. +"It took science hundreds of years to lick the problem of crossing the +void of space to the outer planets. Now, that that much has been +accomplished, the task of exploring and possibly developing and +colonizing those planets is ahead of us. The most important part of that +work is up to men like you, Lieutenant Harrison. You are attached to the +meteorology department with the job of doing the preliminary analysis +and exploration on the various planets whose raw materials are essential +to Earth. Never for a minute underestimate the importance of that work." + +Ward cleared his throat. "I won't sir." + +"Good. There are other branches of the service that might seem more +glamorous, but all of them are dependent on your research and findings. +Without meteorological survey the entire network of space stations we +have established would have been impossible. And the need today for +accurate and thorough research on atmospheric conditions in the Universe +is greater than ever before. Always keep that in mind." + +"I will, sir," Ward answered. + +"Good," the colonel said. He ran a heavy hand through his silver-dusted +hair and then picked up again the sheaf of papers from his desk. + +"Your first assignment is to one of our established observation stations +on Mars," he said. + + * * * * * + +Ward kept his face woodenly expressionless; but it was hard to conceal +his disappointment. He wanted adventure and danger. He wanted to prove +his courage and loyalty on some perilous journey to an uncharted, +unexplored area, and there was little hope for such action on an +established base. + +"The station to which you are being sent," the colonel went on, "was +established three years ago by the man who is still in command there, a +civilian by the name of Thomas Halliday. He is alone there, now. His +assistant died about six months ago. You will act as Halliday's +assistant in atmospheric experimentation and in the collection of +meteorologic data. Despite the fact that he is a civilian you will take +your orders from him. Is that much clear?" + +"Yes," Ward said. He had to fight to keep the bitterness he was feeling +from showing in his voice. He had been prepared for anything, but this +was too much to accept cheerfully. Serving on a dull, one-man base, +under the domination of a civilian, who had probably been rejected by +the regular service for timidity or incompetence, was a bitter pill to +swallow. Ward found a real, though illogical, resentment welling in him. +And the object of this resentment was Thomas Halliday. + +"Thomas Halliday," the colonel said, "is a very careful, painstaking +meteorologist. He is completely dependable and reliable. The information +he has sent us to date is accurate and thorough. Moreover he is +extremely cautious." The colonel paused and frowned and his thick strong +fingers drummed irritably on the top of his desk. + +"Damn it!" he said with sudden explosive impatience. "Sometimes I think +the man is too cautious. He's been there three years now and he still +hasn't sent us a complete report on conditions there. Caution and care +are fine qualities but, like all things, they can be overdone. We're +planning on erecting a large special base in his locality when we +finally get all the information. But we can't make a move until Halliday +comes through." + +"Is there any reason why the research might have been delayed?" Ward +asked. + +The colonel shook his head. + +"Not as far as we know. Now don't get me wrong. I'm not damning any man +until I know all the facts. I'm not a pot-bellied, arm-chair admiral. +I've been in the void myself long enough to realize that you can't pass +judgment on a man's work until you've actually seen the situation he's +up against. You can't get the complete picture from a three hundred word +report. There may be other factors to consider that we here don't know +about. But Halliday's data isn't coming in fast enough and I'm taking +steps to get at the bottom of the trouble. I'm sending you there, +Harrison, because your record indicates that you're a go-getter. Maybe +what Halliday needs is a little more recklessness, a little more +impulsiveness and a lot less caution. I'm hoping that you will act as a +spur to Halliday. Think you're up to the job?" + +Ward's eyes were flashing with excitement. His bitter disappointment had +vanished. + +"I'll do my absolute best, sir," he said. The colonel's words had +crystallized his swiftly-formed animosity for this Thomas Halliday. The +man was obviously a timid creature without sufficient guts to do a man's +job. Ward felt an itching impatience to get started on this assignment. +He wanted to meet Thomas Halliday. He was very anxious to begin his new +duties as a spur to the man. + +"Halliday hasn't given us much information about what he's discovered on +that section of Mars," the colonel said. "He's confined his reports +exclusively to atmospheric data. In his first report he mentioned that +the area was inhabited and I got the impression that he hadn't found the +natives particularly friendly. But since he hasn't mentioned them since, +I gather that he hasn't had any trouble with them.... + +"I guess that's about all, Lieutenant. This is an important job. And if +you find any reason for Halliday's delay in getting that job done, I +want you to flash me a message immediately. I'm putting a lot of +confidence in you, young man, but I don't think it's misplaced." + +The colonel stood up and extended his hand. + +"Good luck, son." + +Ward took the older man's hand in a firm grip. + +"Thank you, sir. I'll do everything I can to justify your confidence in +me." + +He saluted, right-about-faced smartly and strode toward the door. The +colonel followed his straight young back with his eyes and there was a +smile of pride on his face. Lieutenant Ward Harrison, in the opinion of +the colonel, was definitely an excellent addition to the forces of +Earth. + +Lieutenant Ward Harrison thought so himself, but he would have suffered +his tongue to be torn out before admitting it. + + * * * * * + +Three days later, at 24:40 inter-Stellar time, Ward Harrison arrived at +the Earth observation base located in the uncharted, inaccessible area +on the southern plane of the planet, Mars. + +As he flashed into the atmosphere of the planet he cut the rear +propulsion rockets of his slim single-seater and prepared to land. He +sighted the base's small cluster of buildings and the mooring tower in +his fore visi-screen and he made quick rapid adjustments on his +instrument panel as his slender ship slanted toward them in a screaming +dive.... + +When the nose of his ship made contact with a mooring socket, he set all +instruments at zero. He climbed to his feet and stretched wearily. Then +he walked to the sliding side door of the ship, released the air lock +and stepped out onto the ramp that flanked the mooring tower. + +From this position, some two hundred feet above the ground, he had his +first look at the terrain of Mars. Great gray wastelands spread +endlessly in all four directions and the only break in this monotony was +a low ridge of hills on the far-distant eastern horizon. + +Ward shivered slightly. He hadn't been prepared for anything this +depressing. The small group of squat buildings beneath him looked like +tiny objects adrift in a vast, terrible gray sea. + +A man appeared at the door of the central building and Ward felt an +idiotic sensation of relief at the sight of a human, moving figure in +that dead, silent, gray terrain. + +The man waved to Ward and walked from the doorway toward the base of the +mooring tower. + +Ward descended to the ground in the small cage of the tower elevator. He +stepped out onto the soft, flaky soil of Mars as the man he had seen +from above came up to the tower. + +"Lieutenant Harrison reporting for duty, sir," he said. He saluted and +noticed with a certain satisfaction the other's embarrassment at this +military recognition which he didn't deserve. + +"My name is Halliday," the man said, after a short awkward pause. He +extended his hand. "I'm certainly glad to have you here, Lieutenant." + +As Ward shook hands, he appraised the man carefully, and found nothing +in his examination to change his previously acquired opinion. + +Thomas Halliday was small and stooped, with sallow features and +nervously shifting eyes, which looked startlingly large behind thick +strong glasses. His hair was thin and faded brown in color. There was a +peculiar tight look about his mouth and jaw, as if he were in a +continual state of faint exasperation. + +This, thought Ward, was the man who had been holding up the development +of this area for three years. And, looking at him, it was easy to see +why. + +Ward had his bag in his hand. Halliday, noticing it, asked, "Did you +bring any arms with you?" + +Ward patted the raytube in the smart military holster at his hip. + +"Just this," he said. He added drily, "Expecting trouble?" + +"No," Halliday answered. His eyes shifted from Ward's and swept about in +a long inspection of the vast, sprawling, deserted terrain that +stretched away on all four sides like a boundless ocean. + +"But," he added, "it's when you're not expecting trouble that you're +most likely to run into it." + + * * * * * + +Ward smiled to himself as he followed Halliday's thin stooped figure to +the main building, a squat solid structure of heavy _duralloy_ steel, +with only one door and no windows at all. + +The man was obviously a neurotic mass of nerves, or else he was +indulging in a bit of melodrama to impress his new assistant. + +Halliday stepped aside at the door and Ward preceded him into the hot, +sparsely furnished room. Halliday followed him, closing the door behind +him and setting the mechanism of a powerful automatic lock before +turning to Ward with an apologetic little smile. + +"You'll find it rather cramped at first," he said. "I'll sleep out here +and you can use the storeroom as a bedroom. That's all the living +quarters we have, excepting the kitchen, but I'm sure we'll manage." + +Ward set his grip down and glanced about at the chart-covered walls, the +plain, badly scuffed furniture and he was not particularly enthused at +the prospect of being cooped up in this hot little oven of a room with +Halliday. + +"What about the other buildings?" he asked. "Surely there'd be room +there for me to bunk." + +"We use those building for equipment," Halliday said. "And besides, this +building is safer." + +Ward glanced at the little man with a faint, ironic smile. + +"Is there something here to be afraid of?" His tone was blandly polite, +but he could not completely conceal an undercurrent of contempt. + +"I don't mean to alarm you, Lieutenant," Halliday said, "but this area +of Mars is not quite the safest place in the universe." He removed his +thick glasses with a nervous little gesture and smiled uncertainly at +Ward. "I really think it wiser for you to sleep here." + +"Unless that's an order," Ward said, "I'd rather sleep in comfort in one +of the other buildings and take my chances on your bogy-men catching +me." + +Halliday replaced his glasses. He was no longer smiling. + +"I'm afraid, Lieutenant, you must consider it as an order." + +He turned slowly and re-checked the huge gleaming lock on the door, then +walked to a littered, dusty desk in one corner of the room and sat down. +It was obvious that the discussion was ended. + +Ward shrugged and carried his grip into a small windowless storeroom +that was directly off the main room of the small structure. There were +bales of supplies, a cot and a stool. A vague musty odor permeated the +air. He tossed his grip onto the cot, stripped off his tunic and walked +back into the room where Halliday was seated at his desk. + +Halliday looked up with a smile and removed his glasses with a +characteristic nervous movement of his thin hands. + +"Not exactly the choicest accommodations, eh?" he said, in an attempt at +heartiness, which struck Ward as being almost pathetic. + +"I'll get by," Ward said. He loosened the collar of his shirt and +glanced at the massive steel door, closed and tightly locked. "Any +objection to letting in a little air?" he asked. "It's pretty close in +here." + + * * * * * + +Halliday smiled and his eyes flicked to the closed door. He put his +glasses on again and spent quite a time adjusting them to his thin nose. + +"I'm afraid we'll have to put up with the closeness," he said. + +Ward sighed and sat down in a chair facing Halliday. + +"You're afraid of something," he said bluntly. "Supposing you tell me +about it." + +"As a matter of fact, I was meaning to," Halliday said. "You see, on +this section we're pretty well isolated from the rest of the Earth +stations on Mars. We receive all supplies and mail by a direct +materialization unit. No space craft puts in here. We're here all alone +and if anything happened to us all the data and work that has been +compiled might be lost." + +As Halliday removed his glasses again with a quick aimless gesture, Ward +thought, "A lot you care about the records and data. It's your skin you +want to save." + +Halliday coughed and replaced his glasses. + +"This area is inhabited by a species of creature which I do not believe +has been classified. I do not know if they are human or if they possess +intelligence. I do not even know if they are 'alive' in the sense that +we speak of life. Possibly their energy is of electrical or +carboniferous origin, or it could be even vegetable in nature. As you +see I know little enough about these neighbors of ours, but I do know +that they are dangerous. They resent the work that is being done here." +Halliday frowned and twisted a pencil in his hands. "I'm not even sure +of that. Possibly they are without rational motivation at all. It may be +that they are merely moved to action by the sight of another object in +motion. But whatever their reason, they have been very troublesome. +That, really, is all I know about them. And that is the reason that I +exercise such care. I have a small periscope installed on the roof and +before I unlock the door I study the entire surrounding terrain to be +sure there are no Raspers in sight." + +"Why do you call them Raspers?" Ward asked. + +"Because of a peculiar sound that seems to emanate from them," Halliday +explained. "My former assistant and I had to call them something and +Raspers seemed as logical as anything else." + +"Have you ever seen one of these--er--Raspers?" Ward asked. + +"I'm not sure," Halliday said thoughtfully. He removed his glasses +again. "I've had two brushes with them, but I'm not sure that I saw them +distinctly either time. Possibly the picture that came to my mind, +later, was supplied by my imagination. But I know that there is +something very repellent and fearsome about them. I _felt_ that much." + +Ward crossed his legs and lit a cigarette casually. + +"Can these things be killed?" he asked. + +"I don't know," Halliday answered. "The two chances I had I was too +scared to find out." + +Ward felt a cold anger against this man growing in him. This man had +been entrusted with the task of surveying the atmospheric conditions of +this area--a vital, desperately necessary job--and he was dawdling +along, timidly hugging the cover of this fortress because of a stupid, +half-imaginary fear of the natives of the area. He felt his cheeks +growing hot. + +"We can't stay cooped up here indefinitely," he said. "How about the +work we're supposed to be doing. Or does that bother you?" + + * * * * * + +Halliday looked at him queerly and then dropped his eyes. He fiddled +nervously with his glasses. + +Ward suddenly found the gesture maddening. + +"For Pete's sake!" he exploded. "Leave 'em on, or leave 'em off, one or +the other. That's apparently your only job here, taking those damn +glasses off and putting them back on again." + +"I'm sorry," Halliday said quickly, apologetically. "It's just a habit I +guess. It's a little something to break the nervous tension of being +here all alone, thinking...." + +His voice trailed off and his hand moved nervously toward his glasses +and then fell back limply in his lap. + +"About the work here," he said in a mild, controlled voice, "we are +forced to work on a definitely limited schedule. I have field apparatus +located at points several miles distant from here. But we can't venture +out to take the necessary readings until the weather is propitious." + +"What's the weather got to do with our taking readings?" Ward demanded. + +"Simply this: There are certain periods of intense precipitation on this +area of Mars. These periods are accompanied by high velocity winds. The +atmospheric disturbance reaches monsoon proportions. During such +periods, for some reason, the Raspers are exceptionally active. +Something in the nature of the monsoon reacts on them with very savage +results. They seem to feed on the electric disturbances in the +atmosphere. They go wild during these changes in the weather and search +for any moving thing to destroy. In some manner they are able to cover +enormous distances during the monsoon and they can travel with +incredible speed. When a monsoon is threatening I never leave the +station." + +Ward listened in growing irritation to this explanation. + +"How often do you have monsoons here?" he demanded. + +"Unfortunately, quite often," Halliday answered. "All of my instruments +indicate now that one is brewing. I haven't been able to do more than a +few hours of work in the last two months. I've been waiting for the +weather to break, but so far it hasn't." + +"Do you mean to tell me," Ward said incredulously, "that you've been +sitting here, twiddling your thumbs for the past two months because +you're afraid to take a chance on a wind blowing up?" + +"That is exactly what I mean," Halliday said. "But it isn't the wind I'm +afraid of. It's the things that come with the wind that make any field +work impossible. I've learned a few things about the Raspers in my three +years and one is that it doesn't pay to give them a chance. That's all +they need. That's all they're waiting for." + +Ward stood up impatiently and jammed his fists into his pockets. It took +all of his self control not to let his anger and contempt for the man +explode in roaring fury. + +"I can't understand your attitude," he said at last, through tight lips. +"I'm green and new here. I don't know anything about the set-up except +what you've told me. But I know from your own admission that you've +never seen these things you're so mortally afraid of, you've never stood +up to them and given them a taste of ray juice to think about, you don't +really know anything about them, except that you're terrified of the +very thought of them. That isn't a reasonable attitude. Only one kind of +man thinks that way, and that's a man without a touch of starch in his +backbone, or a bit of honest-to-goodness guts in his make-up. If you +want to hug this place like a scared school-girl that's all right, but +I'll be double-damned if I'm going to let any superstitious nonsense +keep me from doing the job I was sent here to do." + +"That is a very brave speech, Lieutenant," Halliday said, "and I admire +you for it. But you are going to do as I say in spite of your own +opinions. We will stay here and take no unnecessary chances until our +instruments indicate that the monsoon weather has passed. That is an +order." + + * * * * * + +Ward choked back his wrath. He glared at Halliday for an instant, then +wheeled and strode into the small storeroom that was to serve as his +sleeping quarters. He banged the door shut and sat down on the edge of +the cot, his fingers opening and closing nervously. + +He wasn't sure just what he'd do, but he didn't intend to stand for +Halliday's craven policy of hiding in a locked room, instead of doing +the work his country expected him to do. Halliday was a psychopathic +case; his mind was full of a hundred and one imagined horrors and they +kept him from doing his job. There was little wonder that he had been +three years attempting to compile the information that should have been +gathered in three months. + +The man was so terrified of imagined dangers that he was helpless to +act. Ward felt a moment of pity for him, the pity the brave invariably +feel for the weak and cowardly. But he also felt a cold and bitter +contempt for the man who had allowed his own fear and timidity to hold +up the important work of accumulating data on this section of the +planet. If he wasn't man enough to do the job, he should have at least +been man enough to admit it. + +Ward decided that the next day he'd have the thing out. He undressed +slowly and stretched out on the narrow cot, but sleep was a long time in +coming. + +When he stepped from his room the next day he saw that Halliday was +standing in the doorway gazing out over the dull gray Martian landscape. + +"Aren't you taking quite a chance?" he asked, with heavy sarcasm. + +Halliday ignored the gibe. "No. I made a careful check before I released +the door lock and opened up. Did you sleep well?" + +"Fair," Ward said. "How can you tell the days and nights here? Is there +ever any change in the sky?" + +Halliday shook his head. "Sometimes it gets a little darker, sometimes +it's lighter. When you're tired you go to bed. That's the only standard +we have." He shaded his eyes with his hand and stared for a long moment +at the bleak, depressing horizon. + +Looking over his shoulder, Ward noticed swirling humid mists drifting in +the air and, above, huge massive clouds of dense blackness were +gathering. He felt a peculiar electric tightness in the atmosphere. + +Halliday closed and locked the door carefully. + +"Might as well have breakfast," he said. "There's nothing else we can do +today." + +"Do we have to stay cooped up here all day?" Ward asked. + +"I'm afraid so. This weather is ready to break any minute now, and when +it does I intend to be behind a well-locked door." + +Ward's lips curled slightly. + +"Okay," he said quietly, "we'll wait for the monsoon to blow over. Then, +Raspers or not, I'm going to work." + + * * * * * + +But four long days dragged by and there was no indication that the +monsoon weather was prepared to break. Low dense clouds were massed +overhead and the air was gusty with flurries of humid wind. + +Halliday grew increasingly nervous. He spent every waking hour at the +periscope in a constant study of the dark horizons and he said little to +Ward. + +Ward's impatience grew with every inactive moment. + +"How much longer are we going to hide in here like scared rats?" he +blazed finally. He paced furiously up and down the small room, glaring +in rage at Halliday's stooped figure. + +Halliday smiled nervously and removed his glasses. His fingers were +trembling so violently that he almost dropped them to the floor. + +"I can't even guess," he said shakily. "I was hoping that the monsoon +would blow over, but I'm afraid we're in for it." + +"You've been saying that ever since I arrived," Ward said bitterly. + +Halliday was studying a _aerograph_ on the wall. When he turned to Ward, +his face was gray. His lips were more tightly clamped than ever. + +"If anything should happen to our front door lock," he said, "there's an +exit we can use in the kitchen. Possibly you've noticed the small door +beside the refrigeration and oxygen unit. That leads to a small room +that can be locked from the inside. There are supplies there to last a +week. I didn't tell you this before because I was afraid it might alarm +you." + +"Thanks for sparing my feelings," Ward snapped. "But I don't think I'll +be needing your cosy little refuge. I've stalled just about enough. I +was sent here to do a job and by Heaven I'm going to try and finish it." + +He jerked his tunic from the back of a chair and scooped up his raytube +and belt. Halliday regarded him in silence as he buckled on the weapon. + +"What do you think you're going to do?" he asked at last. + +"First I'm going to flash a message to Earth, asking that I be placed in +command here," Ward said. He buttoned his tunic swiftly, and his eyes +were cold slits of anger as he looked at Halliday nervously fumbling +with his glasses. "I was sent here with instructions to find out what +the delay was in getting the work done. I've found out to my +satisfaction. You've done about one day's work for every month you've +spent cooped up in here, trembling every time the wind howled. When I +come back I'll have an authorization from GHQ to take over here +immediately. Then you and I are going to work and damn the weather. If +you don't want to cooperate," Ward slapped the weapon at his hip, "I'll +use what force is necessary to make you." + +"Please listen to me," Halliday said desperately. "You're impulsive and +reckless and I admire you for it. Sometimes I wish I were more like +that. But I know the situation here better than you do. We'd be running +a terrible risk trying to work right at this time." + +"Sure," Ward said, "We'd be running a risk. That's apparently your +entire philosophy. Sit tight, do nothing, because there might be a +slight risk involved." + +He turned and strode to the door. + +"Wait," Halliday cried. "You can't go out now." + +Ward disengaged the lock with a swift deft motion. + +"Who's going to stop me?" he asked. + +Halliday crossed to his side with quick, pattering strides. He grabbed +him by the arm and pulled him around. + +"Please listen to me," he said imploringly. "I know what I'm talking +about. I--" + +Ward shook the hand loose and stared coldly into Halliday's, white +strained features. + +"You're gutless, Halliday," he said in a low tense voice. "Now keep out +of my way." + +He turned to the door again, but Halliday grabbed him suddenly and +pushed him back. + +"You're not going to do it," he cried, his voice trembling. "I'm not +going to let you." + + * * * * * + +Ward grabbed the man by his lapels and swung him away from the door. He +stepped close to him and his right fist chopped down in a savage +axe-like stroke. The short, powerful blow exploded under Halliday's +chin. His knees buckled and he sprawled limply to the floor. + +Ward stared down at the still form and he felt an instant of regret for +striking a man fifty pounds lighter than himself, but he realized that +it had been the only course open. + +He drew his raytube, inspected it quickly to make sure that it was in +perfect order, then swung open the door and stepped out into the gray +murkiness of the Martian atmosphere. + +The wind had increased to a wild mad scream. Flaky particles of soil +stung his face like myriad needle-pricks as he braced himself against +the buffeting force of the gale. + +He couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of him, but he knew the +general direction of the building which housed the materialization unit +and he headed that way, bent almost double against the wind. + +He heard and saw nothing but the wild wail of the monsoon and the gray +swirling murk. There was an awesome feeling in staggering blindly on +through a dead gray world of howling dust-laden wind. + +He felt as if he were the only person left alive in the universe. But he +plowed stubbornly forward. There was work to be done and he felt a grim +exaltation in the knowledge that he had enough fortitude to let nothing +stop him from doing his job. + +Hell! What was a little wind? This thought came to him and he smiled +grimly. He'd show Halliday! He'd show 'em all! Nothing was going to stop +him! + +There was a peculiar crackling sound in the air about him, as if bolts +of unseen lightning were slashing through the turbulent atmosphere, but +he forged ahead. He knew there was little danger of an electric bolt +striking him as long as he was out in the open. + +The distance to the goal was not a matter of a dozen yards or so, but it +took him fully five minutes to cover the stretch. He had trouble +breathing; each breath was snatched from his open mouth by the fury of +the wind. And his eyes were rimmed with dust and streaming from the +stinging bite of the flaky soil. + +When he reached the wall of the building he was sobbing for breath and +blind from the whiplash of the wind. He sagged against the comfortable +bulk of the squat, solid structure and wiped at his eyes with a +handkerchief, but the wind soon tore the flimsy cloth from his fingers. + +There was nothing to do but find the door of the building as quickly as +possible. Using his hands as groping feelers he staggered around two +corners of the buildings until his fingers closed about a door knob. + +The gale was increasing in intensity; the roaring lash of the wind was +wild and explosive, as if the floodgates of Nature had swung open to +unleash this maelstrom of fury and destruction. + +The sputtering crackle of electric energy he had noticed seemed to be +swelling in volume, rising steadily in pitch and fury. And then a new +sound was added to the hideous cacophony. Ward heard it faintly at first +and it failed to register on his consciousness. + +The new sound was an unearthly rasping noise that roared about his head +and crashed against his ear drums with terrifying impact. The sound +seemed everywhere; it seemed to emanate from the unleashed forces of the +storm itself; its marrow-chilling, rasping moan was a demoniacal cry, +screaming a weird defiance into the teeth of the mighty monsoon. + + * * * * * + +Ward, hugging the building, heard the rasping sound, and he remembered +what Halliday had told him. Crouched against the side of the structure, +listening to that weird, desolate wail of unnamable horror, he felt his +heart thudding with sudden fear against his ribs. + +The door of the building was jammed. He slammed his shoulder against its +solid unyielding surface again and again--without avail! The harrowing +rasping undertone of the crushing gale was growing and swelling--it +seemed to be converging on him from all sides, a creation of the gray +whining murk of the monsoon. + +Ward's hand tightened on the butt of his raytube. He wheeled about, +pressing his back to the wall of the building. His eyes raked the +swirling turbulence of the storm. + +And through the raging, eddying mists of gray his wind-lashed eyes made +out dreadful, weaving shapes, slithering through the fury of the +storm--toward him! + +An instinctive scream tore at the muscles of his throat, but the wind +whipped the sound from his mouth and cast it into the gale before it +could reach his ears. + +He crouched and raised his gun. + +The shapes were vague misty illusions to his straining eyes. Then a +blanket of wind swept over him, buffeting him against the wall at his +back, and in a momentary flick of visibility that followed the blast, he +was able to see the _things_ that were advancing toward him. + +There was one nauseous, sense-stunning instant of incredible horror as +his eyes focused on the nameless monstrosities that were revealed in the +gray mists of the monsoon. + +One instant of sheer numbing horror, an instinct a billion years old, +buried beneath centuries' weight in his subconscious, suddenly writhed +into life, as pulsing and compelling as the day it had been generated. + +The lost forgotten instincts of man's mind that warn him of the horror +and menace of the unknown, the nameless, the unclean, were clamoring +wildly at his consciousness. + +For these _things_ were hideous and repellent in their very essence. +Whether they were alive or not, his numbed, horror-stunned brain would +never know. The dry, rustling rasping sound that emanated from them +seemed to partake of the same nature as the electrical energy generated +by the monsoon, but that was only a fleeting, terror-strained +impression. + +The raytube fell from his palsied hand; but he didn't notice. There was +only one blind motivation governing his thoughts. + +And that was flight! + +The unreasoning terror of the hunted, of the helpless, gripped him with +numbing force. There was no thought in his mind to fight, to face these +things that emerged from the dead grayness of the monsoon, but only a +hideously desperate desire to escape. + + * * * * * + +Without conscious thought or volition his legs suddenly churned beneath +him and he lunged forward blindly, desperately, lurching through the +buffeting force of the gale toward the sanctuary of the building where +he had left Halliday. + +The rasping, nerve-chilling sound roared about his head and the lashing +screech of the monsoon was a banshee-wail in his ears as he stumbled and +staggered on, driven by the wildest, most elemental fear he had ever +known. + +Suddenly the squat structure loomed directly ahead of him, only a yard +away. The door was standing ajar, and, with a broken sob of relief, he +lunged into the lighted interior of the room. + +Halliday was crawling dazedly to his feet as Ward staggered blindly +through the door, his breath coming in great choking sobs. + +"My God--" + +Halliday's voice broke and Ward saw that his eyes were staring in horror +beyond him, to the still open door where the gray swirling fury of the +monsoon was creeping in. + +And other _things_ were in the open doorway! + +Ward knew that without turning to look. The horror mirrored in +Halliday's face told him that more plainly than could his own eyes. + +There was horror and fear in Halliday's face, but the tightness of his +lips did not relax into the flaccid looseness of hysteria. + +With superhuman control he was keeping a grip on himself. + +"Don't move!" he snapped, through set jaws. "I'll try to get at the +rifle." + +Ward's heart was thundering a tattoo of terror. Halliday's words made no +impression on the horror-stunned brain. He lunged wildly across the +room, dimly he heard Halliday's sudden shouted warning. + +Without a backward glance he lurched into the small room that served as +a kitchen. Through the fog of terror that swirled about his mind, he +remembered only one thing: Halliday's remark of a refuge built there for +emergency purposes. + +His fingers tore open the small door alongside the refrigerator unit. A +black passage stretched ahead of him and he plunged into dark shelter, +jerking the door shut after him. + +A light snapped on when the door closed and he saw that he was in a +small, stoutly reinforced storeroom, with bales of supplies and +equipment packed against the walls. + +He threw the heavy bolt that locked the door and sagged against a wall, +his breath coming in deep shuddering gasps. There was no sound from +outside. Gradually his labored breathing subsided and he stared with +dull, unseeing eyes ahead of him. + +And in that moment Ward Harrison came face-to-face with what he had +done. In a single gleaming flash of understanding, he realized that he +had bought his life with his honor. + +A shuddering sob passed through his body. + +He remembered with scalding self-hatred the things he had said to +Halliday--a man who had endured the horror of this isolated base for +three years. He had called a man cowardly who had more courage in his +smallest finger than Ward had in his entire body. + +Halliday had stuck here, doing his job, making no complaints or excuses, +always aware of the horrible, soul-numbing danger he was facing. + + * * * * * + +Ward cursed and buried his face in his trembling hands. With bitter +shame he recalled his jeering remarks to Halliday about his nervous +habit of removing his glasses. + +_God!_ Three years on this hellish base and the only sign a nervous +habit of fiddling with his glasses. Stark raving madness would have been +the effect on any other person Ward could imagine. + +At that instant he despised himself more than he had ever despised any +human being in his life. + +And he knew that the worst punishment that would ever be meted to him, +would be the mere act of living and being able to think--to remember. + +With feverish eyes he glared about the room. A small leaden cask was set +apart from the other equipment and it was marked with three xxx's, the +indication of high explosive contents. + +Ward dropped to his knees and pried open the lid of the small cask. It +was filled with neat rows of U-235 pellets, hardly an inch in diameter. +He picked up one in each hand and then stood up and walked to the door. + +He was beyond thought or reason. He knew he was going to his death and +he felt nothing but a numb sense of anticipation. He knew that in dying +he would not expiate the crime of cowardice he had committed. Nothing +would ever erase the stigma of that shame. A thousand deaths could not +do that. + +He did not actually think these things. His mind was wrapped in a fog of +blind instinct. There was something he must do--do immediately. That was +as far as his mind would go. + +The kitchen and front room of the small building were empty and the door +leading to the outside was open. The wild raging storm of the monsoon +blew in the door, whipping papers into the air, resounding against the +walls with a booming roar. + +Ward strode across the room, bracing himself against the blast of the +wind. He stepped through the doorway and the full force of the wind +almost bent him backward, but he moved on, fighting his way forward. + +After six feet, the building was lost in the grayness. He was again +alone in a wild howling world of horror and death. + +Then he heard the rasping noise of the _things_ directly ahead of him, +and an instant later he was able dimly to make out their weaving shapes +in the swirling mists of the storm. + +They were coming toward him. + + * * * * * + +With a grim exultation pounding in his temples, Ward hurled a pellet of +U-235 directly into their midst. The thunderous reverberations of the +explosion rocked the ground under his feet. A terrific blast of air that +dwarfed the raging turbulence of the monsoon roared about his head. + +He staggered back, almost falling. + +When he could see again, he made out a great hole in the ranks of the +_things_ moving toward him. + +His laugh was a wild cry in the fury of the night. + +"Damn you!" he shouted. + +His arm whipped back and the second pellet crashed into the serried +ranks of the deadly rasping creatures. + +Something grasped his ankle as the second pellet exploded. He fell +backward, striking the ground hard. A hand grabbed his and then, +miraculously, incredibly, Halliday was pulling him to his feet, jerking +him toward the building. + +They stumbled through the door together. Ward fell to the floor as +Halliday wheeled and slammed the door, throwing the automatic bolts with +the same motion. + +Halliday knelt beside Ward. + +"Good work," he said huskily. "They were holding me. I don't know what +they were planning. Those bombs blew them into little pieces. Luckily I +got through the blast all right." He gripped Ward's arm suddenly. "You +came through too, son." + +"No," Ward said dully. "I didn't. I ran out on you. I'm a fool, a yellow +fool." + +"A coward wouldn't have come back," Halliday said quietly. "We're going +to lick this job together, from now on. We've found a weapon to use +against the Raspers. I never thought of high explosives." + +He grinned suddenly and the tightness was leaving his mouth. "It doesn't +seem so terrible when you've got something to fight back with." + +Ward looked up at Halliday and a faint smile touched his own lips. +"Some_one_ to fight with, means a lot, too," he said. He suddenly +grinned. "You've lost your glasses." + +"I won't miss them," Halliday said. "I didn't need them. I wore them to +give me something to do, that's all. But we're going to have plenty to +do, now." + +Ward swallowed with difficulty. He knew that in his wild, thoughtless +act of heroism he hadn't redeemed himself. Redemption would come from a +lifetime of playing the game the way men like Halliday did. But the +chance was there for him, and he was glad that he could start +immediately. + +"Whatever you say," he said. He grinned, and added, "--boss." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Monsoons of Death, by Gerald Vance + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MONSOONS OF DEATH *** + +***** This file should be named 32618.txt or 32618.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/6/1/32618/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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