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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e7698f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63286 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63286) diff --git a/old/63286-h.zip b/old/63286-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 060e576..0000000 --- a/old/63286-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63286-h/63286-h.htm b/old/63286-h/63286-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 6f1861f..0000000 --- a/old/63286-h/63286-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1054 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Invader from Infinity, by George Whittington. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Invader From Infinity, by George Whittington - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Invader From Infinity - -Author: George Whittington - -Release Date: September 24, 2020 [EBook #63286] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INVADER FROM INFINITY *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>Invader from Infinity</h1> - -<h2>By GEORGE WHITTINGTON</h2> - -<p>"Destroy the Invader," the orders<br /> -read—and Captain McPartland's expendable<br /> -spacer flashed into suicidal battle.</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Winter 1944.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Commander Jon McPartland stared with hard blue eyes into his view -screen. He watched a tiny dot in one corner grow slowly, and heard the -unnecessary words of his Lieutenant-Commander, Clemens:</p> - -<p>"Observation Officer reports enemy craft sighted, Sir."</p> - -<p>"Very good," acknowledged McPartland. "Have Lieutenant Parek compute -their speed and course."</p> - -<p>Clemens spoke softly into the intra-ship phone, and Commander Jon -McPartland returned momentarily to his thoughts. His square jaw was set -as though cast in bronze, with hard muscles machined into its contour.</p> - -<p>Here was the enemy—the unknown, the alien, who spoke only with -destruction! This was the ship that had destroyed System patrols; later -a full battle fleet of the Solar System's most powerful space fighters. -The interceptors had been unable to establish communication of any -sort; and they were blasted into fiery chunks of space debris before -getting close enough to use their own guns.</p> - -<p>"Well, here they are, Clemens," the Commander said aloud, "and getting -uncomfortably close to the System. It looks like they're some other -System's dominant intelligence, and we've got planets they want."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," said the other, "and here we are, with the fastest, most -heavily armed space fighter ever built—in the System."</p> - -<p>"In the Universe," snapped McPartland. His full lips curved into a grim -smile. "Under sealed orders which every citizen from Pluto to Mercury -knows are: 'Destroy this ship—or it conquers our System.'"</p> - -<p>Lieutenant-Commander Clemens bent to his intra-phone, turned to relay. -"Navigation Officer reports enemy ship has altered course to head on. -Speed fifty Spatial units."</p> - -<p>"Thank you," McPartland stepped to the phone himself.</p> - -<p>"This is it, men. You know what it means!" His hands flicked levers -swiftly, as he spoke to component units individually:</p> - -<p>"Propulsion—full speed ahead. Make every blast tell!</p> - -<p>"Navigation—evasive course. Swing wide to draw them away from the -System so that if—if—"</p> - -<p>"I understand, sir," came the crisp reply from Lieutenant Parek.</p> - -<p>"All ray stations," went on McPartland, "fire at maximum range. -Radio—any contact?"</p> - -<p>"None, sir."</p> - -<p>"Magnetic screen interference?" asked the Commander.</p> - -<p>"No, sir. No magnetic defense screens apparent on enemy."</p> - -<p>"Put ours up full power." Jon McPartland was smiling now, but his eyes -were flashing hatred of the alien. Another ten seconds would find them -in effective range. The enemy was looming in the view screen, a round -glistening sphere—a ball of destruction pitted again his own slim, -sleek avenger.</p> - -<p>"Screens up, sir, full power," came the response.</p> - -<p>Lieutenant-Commander Clemens had headphones clamped over his ears. He -was standing by for reports from stations. He turned suddenly, face -lined and taut, and reported almost in a whisper:</p> - -<p>"We're hit, sir, right through our screens at this range! Partial -disintegration in section four. Bulkheads holding."</p> - -<p>The Commander was standing wooden-faced, incredulous. But the hatred -was building up in his eyes until Clemens shuddered.</p> - -<p>"Through our defense screens at this range!" McPartland ground out -savagely. He turned back to his view screen with a bitter oath.</p> - -<p>There was the sphere, gleaming, flashing against the bottomless black -of space—catching starlight, and throwing it back as though the touch -of that pure light was distasteful.</p> - -<p>What form of intelligence destroyed, killed without warning—-without -speech?</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Clemens' voice broke into the red haze that hovered over his Commander: -"Hit again, sir, Section 8. Almost complete disintegration of hull. -Bulkheads holding."</p> - -<p>Jon McPartland spoke his thoughts aloud. "I saw the ray that time, -just a faint glimmer across the black. It should have hit Section 6! -And—and THEY have no magnetic screen!"</p> - -<p>His hand flicked a lever. "Navigation—break away! Straight course back -toward the System."</p> - -<p>There was a long pause before Lieutenant Parek replied. It was easy to -guess his thoughts; quitting, running away! Then he answered; "Yes, -sir!"</p> - -<p>Clemens' voice, speaking softly to the intra-ship, was suddenly the -only sound in the control room above the muted whine of generators -underneath. Jon McPartland, his battle-ending order acknowledged, -glared silently into his screen.</p> - -<p>There the hateful silver sphere shrank slightly in size. Once again -McPartland caught the faint flicker of a ray, the star-studded -blackness. The Commander looked a fierce question at Clemens.</p> - -<p>"No further damage, sir," said the latter. He laid the headphones -aside. "I believe we are out of range. Lieutenant Parek reports our -speed sixty-five Spatial Units; we are drawing away from the enemy."</p> - -<p>There was no relief in the last words; and Commander McPartland felt -a sudden surge of sympathy for the other break through his own bitter -anger. Clemens had been gloomy about their chances in the battle; now, -the Earth ship broke away from the fight, the Lieutenant-Commander was -gloomier in the belief that they hadn't tried hard enough—that they'd -turned in cowardly flight. His eyes avoided his superior's.</p> - -<p>The latter looked about the room, and no glance was raised to meet -his own. Reynolds, the Ray Control Officer stared glumly at his -calculators, and fingered the phone that had waited vainly for his -range data and fire commands. Clemens, stood quietly, awaiting orders. -Engineer McTavish sat in stony silence, gaze fixed on the desk before -him, where sensitive indicators flashed red damage signals against a -three dimensional scale projection of the ship.</p> - -<p>McPartland felt his eyes misting, and ground his teeth, remembering the -alien ship and using his hatred of it to fight back the weakness of -his own pride in his men. They wanted to fight! They hated cowardice -almost as much as they did the murderers they were running from; and -these Earthmen thought their own commander a coward. But discipline and -training held them to his judgment.</p> - -<p>"Hell!" barked McPartland. "We're going back after them."</p> - -<p>His words shattered the silence and the gloom. Reynolds' face was -suddenly radiant; Clemens relaxed into an expression of smug worry; -McTavish grunted.</p> - -<p>"Mister McTavish, what about that damage?" demanded the Commander.</p> - -<p>Engineer McTavish brought his lanky form up from the chair and into -rigidity. "You gave no orders, sir," he reproached, his grey eyes eager.</p> - -<p>"Have your men break out two space-suits, Mister," said McPartland. -"You and I will go through the bulkheads and inspect the damaged hull."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir." McTavish turned eagerly to his phone.</p> - -<p>"Mister Clemens," snapped the Commander, "hold our course. And you may -tell the men we're not through fighting."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>McPartland and McTavish stepped carefully through the darkness of -section four. Behind them, the bulkhead door had been securely dogged -shut against the vacuum of space; before them was a ragged jet patch -from which distant stars sent faint light to outline the great rip in -the hull.</p> - -<p>Both men carried powerful flashlights, but preferred to step carefully -among dim outlines rather than use lights until they reached the hull. -There had been a ray gun here—and its crew; and men, suddenly exposed -to cold and pressureless space, make grim corpses.</p> - -<p>At the thought, McPartland's big hand gripped the hammer he carried, so -that he almost felt the handle through his heavy gauntlet. He had an -insane desire to leap out and wait for the other ship—to batter at its -silver hull!</p> - -<p>As though sensing the thought, the Engineer broke in, speaking through -his suit-communicator: "Here we are, sir."</p> - -<p>The flashlight blazed in his hand, its beam spreading along the twisted -broken metal of the ship's side. Instantly the big hammer flashed into -the beam and against the metal near its broken edge, swung with every -ounce of fury and strength in Jon McPartland's arm, shoulder and torso.</p> - -<p>"If I'm right," he muttered with the swing, "we'll know it now. We'll -have a fighting—chance."</p> - -<p>He faltered on the last word, as his blow landed and sent some of its -force smashing back up his arm and body. But the Commander knew—as a -smith knows—the feel of metal under his strength; and Jon McPartland -knew his hunch had been right even before McTavish cried:</p> - -<p>"You—you <i>bent</i> it!"</p> - -<p>"Right, Mister. I bent it. And I couldn't bend the steel that went into -this ship's hull, could I, McTavish?"</p> - -<p>"Blasting right you couldn't, begging your pardon, sir. No man could."</p> - -<p>"Then it isn't steel any longer, McTavish—not near the edges of the -spot their ray hit!" McPartland twirled the hammer in his hand, eager -as a small boy just learning how to whip the neighborhood bully. "Where -that ray hit there was disintegration at the center, transmutation at -the edges."</p> - -<p>Understanding was spreading over the Engineer's face behind the -transparent helmet of his space suit. "Then, man, that ray has one -magnetic charge; positive or negative, proton or electron."</p> - -<p>"And your technicians will tell us which," ordered the Commander. "Get -them busy cutting out samples. We want to know quickly. But you and I -have enough to do while we wait, Mister."</p> - -<p>He led the way back to the bulkhead. Inside, McTavish gave orders, -while shedding his space-suit and starting down the corridor to the -control room.</p> - -<p>McPartland explained as they went. "Our magnetic screens, having -electrons and protons, bent their ray. I saw it. That made me think -they used a mono-charged stream of particles. Some of the particles -in the screen attracted the ray charges, others repelled them. You -know, of course," he went on, "how our screens diffuse our own type of -duo-charge beam at long range and protect the ship against them."</p> - -<p>"Yes, man!" His Engineer agreed, excitedly now. "And beams from the -screened ship go through on initial velocity. But they couldn't use a -screen—the enemy: there'd be no balance of forces—they'd bend their -own ray!"</p> - -<p>"The way we'll bend it, Mister, when we go back after those murderers!" -Jon McPartland took a deep, triumphant breath, and his face lit up with -a battle smile that made the Engineer's heart lift.</p> - -<p>"Mister McTavish, we're going to string a space lifeboat out behind us -on about two miles of cable. You are going to rig up our dynamos to -make this ship and the lifeboat the poles of an electromagnet. When -your Technicians determine the polarity of the enemy ray, we'll make -the ship the repelling pole."</p> - -<p>"Then, man, begging your pardon, sir, we go back and let them blast," -cried the Engineer. "Their ray curves away from us—toward the -lifeboat. By the time they figure the trick out, we'll be close enough -to blast them wide open."</p> - -<p>"We'd better be," his superior concluded grimly. "Or the devils -will blast away the lifeboat and the cable. Leave us without an -electromagnet—right back where we started from."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Commander Jon McPartland stared with hard blue eyes into his screen. -He watched a dot growing into a sphere, and, anticipating the words of -Lieutenant-Commander Clemens, ordered:</p> - -<p>"Have Lieutenant Parek compute their speed and course."</p> - -<p>Clemens, with a look of gloomy reproach at not having been allowed -to report, bent to the intra-ship phone. Before he could speak, he -straightened, and turned to relay the information coming through his -headphones:</p> - -<p>"Navigation Officer reports course head on, sir. Speed fifty Spatial -Units."</p> - -<p>"Thank you." The Commander looked at his Engineer. "All in readiness, -Mister McTavish?"</p> - -<p>"All in readiness, sir," replied the lanky engineer, his grey eyes -twinkling as he added: "They're using an electron ray, and our ship is -negative—but this'll be a positive jolt to the enemy, begging your -pardon, sir!"</p> - -<p>McPartland smiled, the tense muscles along his jaw relaxing for the -first time in hours. Clemens coughed and turned aside, bringing a hand -up over his mouth.</p> - -<p>This effort to preserve his reputation was needed only for a moment. He -straightened, adjusting his headphones, and reported:</p> - -<p>"Enemy ship changing course, sir, swinging aside."</p> - -<p>The Commander glanced quickly at the screen, disbelief flicking -momentarily over his square features. He leaped to the intra-phone, -snatching the headphones from the Lieutenant-Commander.</p> - -<p>"Mister Parek," he ordered, "swing with that ship. We must get in -close—quickly!" Aside to McTavish, he added: "I hope the cable to -that spaceboat holds when it snaps around on this turn."</p> - -<p>"It will hold, sir," the Engineer assured him. "But we'll lose some -speed by the drag—only until we re-accelerate, sir."</p> - -<p>McPartland tossed the headphones back to Clemens, left the intra-phone, -and went back to his screen. For the next few minutes he watched the -alien silver sphere, flashing and glinting in the starlight.</p> - -<p>Jon McPartland whispered, half to himself: "The cunning devils! They -know something's up when a beaten ship comes back to fight again."</p> - -<p>"Begging your pardon, sir," said Reynolds, the Ray Control Officer, in -his quiet manner. "They must have seen the spaceboat strung behind and -become suspicious."</p> - -<p>"You're right, Mister," acknowledged the Commander. "The killers are -careful of their skins." He glared at the hateful beauty of the other -ship, growing no larger in his screen. "Come on," he challenged.</p> - -<p>But the enemy avoided every effort of the earth ship to close in, -turning inside. At last, the space fighters were carving a great circle -in space, the Earthmen on the outside, traveling a greater distance so -that superior speed was largely nullified.</p> - -<p>McPartland glared into his screen. Clemens stood by his intra-phone, -relaying messages from Parek. Reynolds sat before his calculators, -unmoving except for fingers caressing the mike that still waited for -his words. McTavish sprawled before his three dimensional model, his -grey eyes going over and over every line of it.</p> - -<p>At last the Commander spoke the thought in the minds of all four: -"We're six Spatial units apart. Maximum range of their ray is five -units; ours is four. Coming head on, we pass through the gap between -their range and ours in seconds—we almost made it last time! But, if -we overhaul them from behind, it might take minutes to close that gap -with our speed advantage."</p> - -<p>"Right, sir," McTavish agreed, "and minutes would be long enough for -them to blast our spaceboat and cable away."</p> - -<p>"And then us," finished Clemens. He drew himself up. "I am ready, sir, -when you give the order."</p> - -<p>Blazing anger faded from the Commander's eyes and face. "Thank you, -Mister Clemens. I know you are, and so is every man of our crew. But -we're here to save the System, and there's still hope.</p> - -<p>"These animals have come a long way," he said jabbing a fist toward the -ship in the screen. "They think they can afford to wait us out. But -maybe they can't. Mister Clemens, ask Radio to try and contact Earth."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It took long, anxious minutes to make the contact. Meanwhile, -Lieutenant Parek held the ship on the same course, with instructions to -close at once if the enemy moved toward them.</p> - -<p>But the situation remained unchanged, the great circle being traced -and retraced through space, ray guns trained, unused. At last, Radio -reported contact.</p> - -<p>Jon McPartland stepped to the visa-phone. Before him, the faint image -of Marshal Denton, supreme commander of all System forces, flickered -uncertainly over the great distance.</p> - -<p>"McPartland," came the Marshal's voice, thin and wavering through the -poor connection. "I knew you'd do it!"</p> - -<p>McPartland saluted smartly. "We have met the enemy, sir, and stopped -their advance toward the System, but—"</p> - -<p>He went on, reporting their first encounter, his decision and action, -and concluded: "Sir, we can hold them here until help reaches us. -One more ship—rigged as we are—even the slowest old hulk in the -fleet—and we can finish them!"</p> - -<p>There was a long pause. Marshal Denton drew himself up, his face, only -a dim blob on the screen, gave no hint of his emotions as he answered. -"Commander McPartland, I must refuse your request for reinforcements." -There was no mistaking his feeling in the next words:</p> - -<p>"Jon, I've got a System of confidence in you, but my hands are tied. -The Supreme System Congress of Specialists has met and made decisions -for defense—decisions that are not subject to change. From here on, I -can only carry their strategy into effect."</p> - -<p>McPartland stood rigidly. He was stunned. He heard his own voice, as -from far away; "And those decisions, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Every ship we have is concentrated just beyond Pluto's orbit." Denton -answered. "They are arranged in a defensive pattern of depths, that the -Specialists consider impenetrable." His voice was even.</p> - -<p>"Sir," the Commander groaned, "this attacker has the range and a ray -that makes our magnetic screens useless. These fiends will go through -that fleet like light through glass. And the planets—they've been -disarmed for years! They'll be defenseless!"</p> - -<p>In the screen, the Marshal's dim figure slumped. "Jon, the Specialists -rule the System."</p> - -<p>"I understand, sir," McPartland heard himself say. "What are your -orders, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Just your best, Commander Jon McPartland. That will be the best any of -us could give. Good luck!"</p> - -<p>"Thank you, sir." McPartland turned from the visa-phone as Marshal -Denton faded from view.</p> - -<p>Lieutenant-Commander Clemens stood ready beside his intra-phone. -Engineer McTavish sprawled before his model, his grey eyes going -lovingly over every line of it. Ray Control Officer Reynolds fingered -his mike.</p> - -<p>Jon McPartland swept them with his blue eyes, turned to glare again at -the taunting silver sphere in his view screen. He started to speak, -stopped as Reynolds raised his head.</p> - -<p>"Beg your pardon, sir," said the Ray Officer. "May I give the men false -range data when—when—you decide we're finished, sir? I'll feel better -just using this stuff, and the gun crews—those that are left—will -feel better thinking they're striking a blow for the System.</p> - -<p>"It can't do any harm, sir," he pleaded as the Commander snapped his -mouth shut, staring hard.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Reynolds," bellowed the Commander, "ages ago there was an airfighter -who opened fire on his enemy with machine guns before he was in -range. The opponent usually took evasive action—thinking he was in -danger—and lost speed, so that this fighter could overtake and destroy -him.</p> - -<p>"Reynolds, you're a genius!"</p> - -<p>"Man," interrupted McTavish, "our rays would fall short! Those devils -wouldn't be fooled by rays—two Spatial units away!"</p> - -<p>"No, Mister McTavish," his superior replied slowly, "our disintegrator -rays wouldn't fool them. But we have landing searchlights that throw a -beam a dozen Spatial units.</p> - -<p>"McTavish get down to those beams; stop a couple down to pencils; shade -them to throw a pretty violet-colored finger; cut down the power so -they'll reach about six units! Get out of here!"</p> - -<p>The Engineer's lanky body was already through the control room door. -Jon McPartland was grinning. A grin that didn't fade even when he -looked back to his screen, to see the glinting silver sphere swinging -serenely along beside them. He turned to Clemens.</p> - -<p>"Tell Lieutenant Parek to close at full speed the second they start for -us. No evasive action—straight course and let the spaceboat and cable -take it!"</p> - -<p>"Navigation acknowledges, sir." Clemens replied solemnly, and the -Commander knew his Lieutenant had anticipated and given the order.</p> - -<p>"All ray stations ready, sir," added the quiet Reynolds.</p> - -<p>McPartland's grin broadened. "Give them the straight data, Mister -Reynolds."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>It was only seconds later that a voice rang in Clemens' headphones, in -accents loud enough to be heard through the silent, waiting control -room. "McTavish reporting. All in readiness."</p> - -<p>"Let them have it then," ordered the Commander. "But be sure you miss!"</p> - -<p>With the suddenness of calculated surprise, a thin pencil of violet -light stabbed out from the Earth ship. It knifed through space, scant -yards behind the silver sphere, and winked out. A second beam reached -forth, passed beneath the gleaming enemy.</p> - -<p>Immediately, the sphere bobbed in space, began to weave an intricate -course toward the Earth ship. It swelled in the viewscreen before -McPartland.</p> - -<p>He laughed, a low savage sound. "A super-race ego, to think our gunners -are that bad. But they'll learn!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Reynolds began to drone into his phone, his eyes never leaving the -calculators over which his fingers were flying. "Range five units, -position—"</p> - -<p>A faint flicker reached toward the Earth-ship, swung aside. McPartland -laughed again.</p> - -<p>"Range, four point nine," droned Reynolds, and went on with steady -flow of data.</p> - -<p>The pale alien beam reached out again. This time Clemens reported. -"Spaceboat destroyed by direct hit, sir."</p> - -<p>"Range four point six," said Reynolds.</p> - -<p>The sphere was looming ahead of them now, its ray sweeping off to the -side, direction steady even as the sphere danced and spun.</p> - -<p>"Range four point one—"</p> - -<p>"Cable almost completely gone, sir," Clemens said.</p> - -<p>"Steady," McPartland answered. He took a deep breath and heard the -voice of the Ray Control Officer rising triumphantly:</p> - -<p>"Units one, three, five and seven, Fire! Range four point zero, -position—"</p> - -<p>Four livid fingers of red sprang hungrily toward the silver sphere. -They struck almost together, followed as the ship twisted and spun -for brief moments. Then, when the ball of metal suddenly ceased its -gyrations and floated limply, helplessly in space, those fingers -probed, slashed unhindered through its vitals, over every foot of hull.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>It was a scene of awesome destruction, as the ship that had thrown back -starlight so proudly, haughtily, was blotted out of existence, its -atoms torn apart and hurled back to the universe as free energy.</p> - -<p>The glow in his viewscreen threw red highlights into McPartland's black -hair, matched the blazing vengeance in his blue eyes. But he watched, -jaw hard, fist clenched, until destruction was complete.</p> - -<p>"They got what they gave our ships," he said at last, "merciless -destruction. They deserved no better.</p> - -<p>"We'll go back to the System, and turn in our report. Our Scientists -will perfect a defense against a mono-charge ray, and we won't need to -worry about handling any other ships that might follow this one."</p> - -<p>"Right, sir," said McTavish. "And, man, begging your pardon, sir, I -hope we're in on the handling!"</p> - -<p>Lieutenant-Commander Clemens shook his head moodily. "We did well. But -the Congress of Specialists will be disappointed. We didn't bring back -prisoners for examination."</p> - -<p>But his eyes were smiling—again.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Invader From Infinity, by George Whittington - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INVADER FROM INFINITY *** - -***** This file should be named 63286-h.htm or 63286-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/2/8/63286/ - -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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Invader From Infinity - -Author: George Whittington - -Release Date: September 24, 2020 [EBook #63286] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INVADER FROM INFINITY *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - Invader from Infinity - - By GEORGE WHITTINGTON - - "Destroy the Invader," the orders - read--and Captain McPartland's expendable - spacer flashed into suicidal battle. - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Winter 1944. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Commander Jon McPartland stared with hard blue eyes into his view -screen. He watched a tiny dot in one corner grow slowly, and heard the -unnecessary words of his Lieutenant-Commander, Clemens: - -"Observation Officer reports enemy craft sighted, Sir." - -"Very good," acknowledged McPartland. "Have Lieutenant Parek compute -their speed and course." - -Clemens spoke softly into the intra-ship phone, and Commander Jon -McPartland returned momentarily to his thoughts. His square jaw was set -as though cast in bronze, with hard muscles machined into its contour. - -Here was the enemy--the unknown, the alien, who spoke only with -destruction! This was the ship that had destroyed System patrols; later -a full battle fleet of the Solar System's most powerful space fighters. -The interceptors had been unable to establish communication of any -sort; and they were blasted into fiery chunks of space debris before -getting close enough to use their own guns. - -"Well, here they are, Clemens," the Commander said aloud, "and getting -uncomfortably close to the System. It looks like they're some other -System's dominant intelligence, and we've got planets they want." - -"Yes, sir," said the other, "and here we are, with the fastest, most -heavily armed space fighter ever built--in the System." - -"In the Universe," snapped McPartland. His full lips curved into a grim -smile. "Under sealed orders which every citizen from Pluto to Mercury -knows are: 'Destroy this ship--or it conquers our System.'" - -Lieutenant-Commander Clemens bent to his intra-phone, turned to relay. -"Navigation Officer reports enemy ship has altered course to head on. -Speed fifty Spatial units." - -"Thank you," McPartland stepped to the phone himself. - -"This is it, men. You know what it means!" His hands flicked levers -swiftly, as he spoke to component units individually: - -"Propulsion--full speed ahead. Make every blast tell! - -"Navigation--evasive course. Swing wide to draw them away from the -System so that if--if--" - -"I understand, sir," came the crisp reply from Lieutenant Parek. - -"All ray stations," went on McPartland, "fire at maximum range. -Radio--any contact?" - -"None, sir." - -"Magnetic screen interference?" asked the Commander. - -"No, sir. No magnetic defense screens apparent on enemy." - -"Put ours up full power." Jon McPartland was smiling now, but his eyes -were flashing hatred of the alien. Another ten seconds would find them -in effective range. The enemy was looming in the view screen, a round -glistening sphere--a ball of destruction pitted again his own slim, -sleek avenger. - -"Screens up, sir, full power," came the response. - -Lieutenant-Commander Clemens had headphones clamped over his ears. He -was standing by for reports from stations. He turned suddenly, face -lined and taut, and reported almost in a whisper: - -"We're hit, sir, right through our screens at this range! Partial -disintegration in section four. Bulkheads holding." - -The Commander was standing wooden-faced, incredulous. But the hatred -was building up in his eyes until Clemens shuddered. - -"Through our defense screens at this range!" McPartland ground out -savagely. He turned back to his view screen with a bitter oath. - -There was the sphere, gleaming, flashing against the bottomless black -of space--catching starlight, and throwing it back as though the touch -of that pure light was distasteful. - -What form of intelligence destroyed, killed without warning---without -speech? - - * * * * * - -Clemens' voice broke into the red haze that hovered over his Commander: -"Hit again, sir, Section 8. Almost complete disintegration of hull. -Bulkheads holding." - -Jon McPartland spoke his thoughts aloud. "I saw the ray that time, -just a faint glimmer across the black. It should have hit Section 6! -And--and THEY have no magnetic screen!" - -His hand flicked a lever. "Navigation--break away! Straight course back -toward the System." - -There was a long pause before Lieutenant Parek replied. It was easy to -guess his thoughts; quitting, running away! Then he answered; "Yes, -sir!" - -Clemens' voice, speaking softly to the intra-ship, was suddenly the -only sound in the control room above the muted whine of generators -underneath. Jon McPartland, his battle-ending order acknowledged, -glared silently into his screen. - -There the hateful silver sphere shrank slightly in size. Once again -McPartland caught the faint flicker of a ray, the star-studded -blackness. The Commander looked a fierce question at Clemens. - -"No further damage, sir," said the latter. He laid the headphones -aside. "I believe we are out of range. Lieutenant Parek reports our -speed sixty-five Spatial Units; we are drawing away from the enemy." - -There was no relief in the last words; and Commander McPartland felt -a sudden surge of sympathy for the other break through his own bitter -anger. Clemens had been gloomy about their chances in the battle; now, -the Earth ship broke away from the fight, the Lieutenant-Commander was -gloomier in the belief that they hadn't tried hard enough--that they'd -turned in cowardly flight. His eyes avoided his superior's. - -The latter looked about the room, and no glance was raised to meet -his own. Reynolds, the Ray Control Officer stared glumly at his -calculators, and fingered the phone that had waited vainly for his -range data and fire commands. Clemens, stood quietly, awaiting orders. -Engineer McTavish sat in stony silence, gaze fixed on the desk before -him, where sensitive indicators flashed red damage signals against a -three dimensional scale projection of the ship. - -McPartland felt his eyes misting, and ground his teeth, remembering the -alien ship and using his hatred of it to fight back the weakness of -his own pride in his men. They wanted to fight! They hated cowardice -almost as much as they did the murderers they were running from; and -these Earthmen thought their own commander a coward. But discipline and -training held them to his judgment. - -"Hell!" barked McPartland. "We're going back after them." - -His words shattered the silence and the gloom. Reynolds' face was -suddenly radiant; Clemens relaxed into an expression of smug worry; -McTavish grunted. - -"Mister McTavish, what about that damage?" demanded the Commander. - -Engineer McTavish brought his lanky form up from the chair and into -rigidity. "You gave no orders, sir," he reproached, his grey eyes eager. - -"Have your men break out two space-suits, Mister," said McPartland. -"You and I will go through the bulkheads and inspect the damaged hull." - -"Yes, sir." McTavish turned eagerly to his phone. - -"Mister Clemens," snapped the Commander, "hold our course. And you may -tell the men we're not through fighting." - - * * * * * - -McPartland and McTavish stepped carefully through the darkness of -section four. Behind them, the bulkhead door had been securely dogged -shut against the vacuum of space; before them was a ragged jet patch -from which distant stars sent faint light to outline the great rip in -the hull. - -Both men carried powerful flashlights, but preferred to step carefully -among dim outlines rather than use lights until they reached the hull. -There had been a ray gun here--and its crew; and men, suddenly exposed -to cold and pressureless space, make grim corpses. - -At the thought, McPartland's big hand gripped the hammer he carried, so -that he almost felt the handle through his heavy gauntlet. He had an -insane desire to leap out and wait for the other ship--to batter at its -silver hull! - -As though sensing the thought, the Engineer broke in, speaking through -his suit-communicator: "Here we are, sir." - -The flashlight blazed in his hand, its beam spreading along the twisted -broken metal of the ship's side. Instantly the big hammer flashed into -the beam and against the metal near its broken edge, swung with every -ounce of fury and strength in Jon McPartland's arm, shoulder and torso. - -"If I'm right," he muttered with the swing, "we'll know it now. We'll -have a fighting--chance." - -He faltered on the last word, as his blow landed and sent some of its -force smashing back up his arm and body. But the Commander knew--as a -smith knows--the feel of metal under his strength; and Jon McPartland -knew his hunch had been right even before McTavish cried: - -"You--you _bent_ it!" - -"Right, Mister. I bent it. And I couldn't bend the steel that went into -this ship's hull, could I, McTavish?" - -"Blasting right you couldn't, begging your pardon, sir. No man could." - -"Then it isn't steel any longer, McTavish--not near the edges of the -spot their ray hit!" McPartland twirled the hammer in his hand, eager -as a small boy just learning how to whip the neighborhood bully. "Where -that ray hit there was disintegration at the center, transmutation at -the edges." - -Understanding was spreading over the Engineer's face behind the -transparent helmet of his space suit. "Then, man, that ray has one -magnetic charge; positive or negative, proton or electron." - -"And your technicians will tell us which," ordered the Commander. "Get -them busy cutting out samples. We want to know quickly. But you and I -have enough to do while we wait, Mister." - -He led the way back to the bulkhead. Inside, McTavish gave orders, -while shedding his space-suit and starting down the corridor to the -control room. - -McPartland explained as they went. "Our magnetic screens, having -electrons and protons, bent their ray. I saw it. That made me think -they used a mono-charged stream of particles. Some of the particles -in the screen attracted the ray charges, others repelled them. You -know, of course," he went on, "how our screens diffuse our own type of -duo-charge beam at long range and protect the ship against them." - -"Yes, man!" His Engineer agreed, excitedly now. "And beams from the -screened ship go through on initial velocity. But they couldn't use a -screen--the enemy: there'd be no balance of forces--they'd bend their -own ray!" - -"The way we'll bend it, Mister, when we go back after those murderers!" -Jon McPartland took a deep, triumphant breath, and his face lit up with -a battle smile that made the Engineer's heart lift. - -"Mister McTavish, we're going to string a space lifeboat out behind us -on about two miles of cable. You are going to rig up our dynamos to -make this ship and the lifeboat the poles of an electromagnet. When -your Technicians determine the polarity of the enemy ray, we'll make -the ship the repelling pole." - -"Then, man, begging your pardon, sir, we go back and let them blast," -cried the Engineer. "Their ray curves away from us--toward the -lifeboat. By the time they figure the trick out, we'll be close enough -to blast them wide open." - -"We'd better be," his superior concluded grimly. "Or the devils -will blast away the lifeboat and the cable. Leave us without an -electromagnet--right back where we started from." - - * * * * * - -Commander Jon McPartland stared with hard blue eyes into his screen. -He watched a dot growing into a sphere, and, anticipating the words of -Lieutenant-Commander Clemens, ordered: - -"Have Lieutenant Parek compute their speed and course." - -Clemens, with a look of gloomy reproach at not having been allowed -to report, bent to the intra-ship phone. Before he could speak, he -straightened, and turned to relay the information coming through his -headphones: - -"Navigation Officer reports course head on, sir. Speed fifty Spatial -Units." - -"Thank you." The Commander looked at his Engineer. "All in readiness, -Mister McTavish?" - -"All in readiness, sir," replied the lanky engineer, his grey eyes -twinkling as he added: "They're using an electron ray, and our ship is -negative--but this'll be a positive jolt to the enemy, begging your -pardon, sir!" - -McPartland smiled, the tense muscles along his jaw relaxing for the -first time in hours. Clemens coughed and turned aside, bringing a hand -up over his mouth. - -This effort to preserve his reputation was needed only for a moment. He -straightened, adjusting his headphones, and reported: - -"Enemy ship changing course, sir, swinging aside." - -The Commander glanced quickly at the screen, disbelief flicking -momentarily over his square features. He leaped to the intra-phone, -snatching the headphones from the Lieutenant-Commander. - -"Mister Parek," he ordered, "swing with that ship. We must get in -close--quickly!" Aside to McTavish, he added: "I hope the cable to -that spaceboat holds when it snaps around on this turn." - -"It will hold, sir," the Engineer assured him. "But we'll lose some -speed by the drag--only until we re-accelerate, sir." - -McPartland tossed the headphones back to Clemens, left the intra-phone, -and went back to his screen. For the next few minutes he watched the -alien silver sphere, flashing and glinting in the starlight. - -Jon McPartland whispered, half to himself: "The cunning devils! They -know something's up when a beaten ship comes back to fight again." - -"Begging your pardon, sir," said Reynolds, the Ray Control Officer, in -his quiet manner. "They must have seen the spaceboat strung behind and -become suspicious." - -"You're right, Mister," acknowledged the Commander. "The killers are -careful of their skins." He glared at the hateful beauty of the other -ship, growing no larger in his screen. "Come on," he challenged. - -But the enemy avoided every effort of the earth ship to close in, -turning inside. At last, the space fighters were carving a great circle -in space, the Earthmen on the outside, traveling a greater distance so -that superior speed was largely nullified. - -McPartland glared into his screen. Clemens stood by his intra-phone, -relaying messages from Parek. Reynolds sat before his calculators, -unmoving except for fingers caressing the mike that still waited for -his words. McTavish sprawled before his three dimensional model, his -grey eyes going over and over every line of it. - -At last the Commander spoke the thought in the minds of all four: -"We're six Spatial units apart. Maximum range of their ray is five -units; ours is four. Coming head on, we pass through the gap between -their range and ours in seconds--we almost made it last time! But, if -we overhaul them from behind, it might take minutes to close that gap -with our speed advantage." - -"Right, sir," McTavish agreed, "and minutes would be long enough for -them to blast our spaceboat and cable away." - -"And then us," finished Clemens. He drew himself up. "I am ready, sir, -when you give the order." - -Blazing anger faded from the Commander's eyes and face. "Thank you, -Mister Clemens. I know you are, and so is every man of our crew. But -we're here to save the System, and there's still hope. - -"These animals have come a long way," he said jabbing a fist toward the -ship in the screen. "They think they can afford to wait us out. But -maybe they can't. Mister Clemens, ask Radio to try and contact Earth." - - * * * * * - -It took long, anxious minutes to make the contact. Meanwhile, -Lieutenant Parek held the ship on the same course, with instructions to -close at once if the enemy moved toward them. - -But the situation remained unchanged, the great circle being traced -and retraced through space, ray guns trained, unused. At last, Radio -reported contact. - -Jon McPartland stepped to the visa-phone. Before him, the faint image -of Marshal Denton, supreme commander of all System forces, flickered -uncertainly over the great distance. - -"McPartland," came the Marshal's voice, thin and wavering through the -poor connection. "I knew you'd do it!" - -McPartland saluted smartly. "We have met the enemy, sir, and stopped -their advance toward the System, but--" - -He went on, reporting their first encounter, his decision and action, -and concluded: "Sir, we can hold them here until help reaches us. -One more ship--rigged as we are--even the slowest old hulk in the -fleet--and we can finish them!" - -There was a long pause. Marshal Denton drew himself up, his face, only -a dim blob on the screen, gave no hint of his emotions as he answered. -"Commander McPartland, I must refuse your request for reinforcements." -There was no mistaking his feeling in the next words: - -"Jon, I've got a System of confidence in you, but my hands are tied. -The Supreme System Congress of Specialists has met and made decisions -for defense--decisions that are not subject to change. From here on, I -can only carry their strategy into effect." - -McPartland stood rigidly. He was stunned. He heard his own voice, as -from far away; "And those decisions, sir?" - -"Every ship we have is concentrated just beyond Pluto's orbit." Denton -answered. "They are arranged in a defensive pattern of depths, that the -Specialists consider impenetrable." His voice was even. - -"Sir," the Commander groaned, "this attacker has the range and a ray -that makes our magnetic screens useless. These fiends will go through -that fleet like light through glass. And the planets--they've been -disarmed for years! They'll be defenseless!" - -In the screen, the Marshal's dim figure slumped. "Jon, the Specialists -rule the System." - -"I understand, sir," McPartland heard himself say. "What are your -orders, sir?" - -"Just your best, Commander Jon McPartland. That will be the best any of -us could give. Good luck!" - -"Thank you, sir." McPartland turned from the visa-phone as Marshal -Denton faded from view. - -Lieutenant-Commander Clemens stood ready beside his intra-phone. -Engineer McTavish sprawled before his model, his grey eyes going -lovingly over every line of it. Ray Control Officer Reynolds fingered -his mike. - -Jon McPartland swept them with his blue eyes, turned to glare again at -the taunting silver sphere in his view screen. He started to speak, -stopped as Reynolds raised his head. - -"Beg your pardon, sir," said the Ray Officer. "May I give the men false -range data when--when--you decide we're finished, sir? I'll feel better -just using this stuff, and the gun crews--those that are left--will -feel better thinking they're striking a blow for the System. - -"It can't do any harm, sir," he pleaded as the Commander snapped his -mouth shut, staring hard. - - * * * * * - -"Reynolds," bellowed the Commander, "ages ago there was an airfighter -who opened fire on his enemy with machine guns before he was in -range. The opponent usually took evasive action--thinking he was in -danger--and lost speed, so that this fighter could overtake and destroy -him. - -"Reynolds, you're a genius!" - -"Man," interrupted McTavish, "our rays would fall short! Those devils -wouldn't be fooled by rays--two Spatial units away!" - -"No, Mister McTavish," his superior replied slowly, "our disintegrator -rays wouldn't fool them. But we have landing searchlights that throw a -beam a dozen Spatial units. - -"McTavish get down to those beams; stop a couple down to pencils; shade -them to throw a pretty violet-colored finger; cut down the power so -they'll reach about six units! Get out of here!" - -The Engineer's lanky body was already through the control room door. -Jon McPartland was grinning. A grin that didn't fade even when he -looked back to his screen, to see the glinting silver sphere swinging -serenely along beside them. He turned to Clemens. - -"Tell Lieutenant Parek to close at full speed the second they start for -us. No evasive action--straight course and let the spaceboat and cable -take it!" - -"Navigation acknowledges, sir." Clemens replied solemnly, and the -Commander knew his Lieutenant had anticipated and given the order. - -"All ray stations ready, sir," added the quiet Reynolds. - -McPartland's grin broadened. "Give them the straight data, Mister -Reynolds." - -"Yes, sir." - -It was only seconds later that a voice rang in Clemens' headphones, in -accents loud enough to be heard through the silent, waiting control -room. "McTavish reporting. All in readiness." - -"Let them have it then," ordered the Commander. "But be sure you miss!" - -With the suddenness of calculated surprise, a thin pencil of violet -light stabbed out from the Earth ship. It knifed through space, scant -yards behind the silver sphere, and winked out. A second beam reached -forth, passed beneath the gleaming enemy. - -Immediately, the sphere bobbed in space, began to weave an intricate -course toward the Earth ship. It swelled in the viewscreen before -McPartland. - -He laughed, a low savage sound. "A super-race ego, to think our gunners -are that bad. But they'll learn!" - - * * * * * - -Reynolds began to drone into his phone, his eyes never leaving the -calculators over which his fingers were flying. "Range five units, -position--" - -A faint flicker reached toward the Earth-ship, swung aside. McPartland -laughed again. - -"Range, four point nine," droned Reynolds, and went on with steady -flow of data. - -The pale alien beam reached out again. This time Clemens reported. -"Spaceboat destroyed by direct hit, sir." - -"Range four point six," said Reynolds. - -The sphere was looming ahead of them now, its ray sweeping off to the -side, direction steady even as the sphere danced and spun. - -"Range four point one--" - -"Cable almost completely gone, sir," Clemens said. - -"Steady," McPartland answered. He took a deep breath and heard the -voice of the Ray Control Officer rising triumphantly: - -"Units one, three, five and seven, Fire! Range four point zero, -position--" - -Four livid fingers of red sprang hungrily toward the silver sphere. -They struck almost together, followed as the ship twisted and spun -for brief moments. Then, when the ball of metal suddenly ceased its -gyrations and floated limply, helplessly in space, those fingers -probed, slashed unhindered through its vitals, over every foot of hull. - -It was a scene of awesome destruction, as the ship that had thrown back -starlight so proudly, haughtily, was blotted out of existence, its -atoms torn apart and hurled back to the universe as free energy. - -The glow in his viewscreen threw red highlights into McPartland's black -hair, matched the blazing vengeance in his blue eyes. But he watched, -jaw hard, fist clenched, until destruction was complete. - -"They got what they gave our ships," he said at last, "merciless -destruction. They deserved no better. - -"We'll go back to the System, and turn in our report. Our Scientists -will perfect a defense against a mono-charge ray, and we won't need to -worry about handling any other ships that might follow this one." - -"Right, sir," said McTavish. "And, man, begging your pardon, sir, I -hope we're in on the handling!" - -Lieutenant-Commander Clemens shook his head moodily. "We did well. But -the Congress of Specialists will be disappointed. We didn't bring back -prisoners for examination." - -But his eyes were smiling--again. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Invader From Infinity, by George Whittington - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INVADER FROM INFINITY *** - -***** This file should be named 63286.txt or 63286.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/2/8/63286/ - -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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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