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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..03c0b10 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63843 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63843) diff --git a/old/63843-0.txt b/old/63843-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d3e84e1..0000000 --- a/old/63843-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1040 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Madcap Metalloids, by W.V. Athanas - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Madcap Metalloids - -Author: W.V. Athanas - -Release Date: November 22, 2020 [EBook #63843] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MADCAP METALLOIDS *** - - - - - The Madcap Metalloids - - By W. V. ATHANAS - - Plucked from the space-lanes by its ravening - magnetism, the two intrepid Terrans defied the - death of this deadly radio-active worldlet - by playing games with the roly-poly natives! - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Summer 1949. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Jonathan Drake swam back to consciousness as a bubble rises through -molasses--slowly, and with great effort. His arms lay heavily on the -padded rests of the shock-chair, and his lids drooped persistently -despite the shouted commands of his brain. A bubble of air rose -reluctantly up his throat to operate his paralyzed vocal cords. - -"Doc," he croaked. "Doc?" The words bounced off the polished metal -walls of the room. There was no sound after that but the soft purr of -the control board. - -Jonathan walked his hand along the arm rest like a spider, each finger -a leg drawing the weighted hand a step further like a tremendous body. -Finally a finger found the cup of the release button, and the pneumatic -pads fell free of thigh, belly and chest. He slid the button forward -and the shock-seat tilted him forward and decanted him gently onto the -floor. - -He could hear Doc breathing now, the sound of it harsh above the quiet -humming of the dynamics, and he rolled on over and heaved his body off -the floor with both arms. - -"Puny," he muttered to himself. "Weak as a baby. Must have been a rough -landing." - -He fought his way to his hands and knees, but his body rebelled at the -task of rising to his feet. - -_This is getting to where it ain't funny_, he thought, and scrambled -with great effort to the control board. - -He had a look at the G-gauge and whistled softly. 3.4! _Leaping Luna, -no wonder!_ He forced his hand to the knurled knob of the control lever -and clicked it down four notches. He held it there a moment, then eased -it back a fraction by twisting the knob. The dynamics' hum rose a note -and the weight began to fall from him. - -He stepped swiftly to the other shock-chair and released the -restrainers with one impatient stabbing finger. Doc had a bluish tinge -about his mouth and his breathing was a bit ragged. - -"Doc," said Jon sharply. He thumbed one of Doc's eyes open and studied -the pupil. "Too much deceleration," he muttered, and wheeled to the -black kit on the wall. - -His eye caught the visi-plate over the control panel in passing, and -he gave the bleak plain it showed a casual glance. Something round and -black traveled across the field of vision, but was gone almost as soon -as it caught his attention. He flicked a quick look to see that the -automatic cameras were recording, and returned to Doc. - -Doc made no response to the jab of the needle, but within ten seconds -the color flooded to his face and he snapped his head up with alert -attention. - -"We made it," said Doc with instant comprehension. Doc was bald as an -egg, though he was not yet thirty-five, and his lips were red and full -and smiled easily. Behind those twinkling blue eyes--as Jon knew full -well--was a brain that operated at its peak during stress, a mind that -knew neither dismay nor panic. - -His eyes twinkled now with sharp inquiry. "How does it look, Jon?" - - * * * * * - -The lean dark-haired pilot shrugged. "I haven't seen much of it yet. -Instruments show that we aren't cracked--outer and inner hulls still -holding pressure. Tremendous gravity, no atmosphere. Entire area -slightly radio-active. Haven't had time to check the recording tapes -yet. I blacked out about the same time you did." - -Doc caught his lower lip between his white even teeth for a moment. -Then he tilted himself out of the shock-chair and rolled the stiffness -out of his broad shoulders. "Tapes first," he said. - -Jon clipped another reel into the recorder and stopped the whirring of -the one he wanted. He slipped it onto the reversing spindle, pulled -out the tag-end inside and fed it into the slot. Then he tapped two -cigarettes alight on his thumbnail, gave one to Doc and stepped back to -watch. - -The asteroid showed up with surprising suddenness out of the void that -was deep space. Its outlines were blurry at first, but sharpened as -the spotter focused on it. It was traveling at tremendous speed, for -the star patterns behind it changed even as they watched. The metallic -voice of the sound track came in now, recording the instrument readings. - -"Ship's course Z-point RD 3784. Object's course Z-point AD 1892." The -speaker droned on with data, speed of ship, computed speed of object, -drive ratings. Then: "Collision course. Collision course. Repeating. -Collision course." - -The black mass of the asteroid shifted on the screen and momentarily -went out of focus as the ship spun on its axis and the rear viewers -took over. Then the scene was streaked with flame as the main jets put -on full emergency deceleration. - -The rest of the recording tape was nightmarish. The flaring of the jets -stuttered--then stopped. The dispassionate mechanical voice of the -speaker reported the main converter feed jammed, and almost instantly -reported that auxiliary units were operating. - -Doc shuddered reminiscently at this. He recalled the tortuous crawl -through the tunnel into the converter room, the shoving of the screen -ahead of him in the flickering blue glow of the room, the unjamming of -the 'foolproof' feeding reel that had been installed especially for -this exploration. - -The twenty minutes it took had been enough. The ship lurched to the -pull of this concentrated hulk of God-knew-what, and went into a tight -orbit around the asteroid. - -They were just too close. They came in lower and lower, and finally -Jon threw on full power. Hobson's choice. Fall into the mass or kill -themselves with high-G deceleration. Jon chose deceleration. - -Both pairs of eyes watched the changing pictures with fascinated gaze. -This was where they had blacked out. - -It was sheer luck. The tape showed that they had gone tumbling -across the bleak land below in a crazy pinwheeling motion. The nose -dropped forward into the line of flight just as the belly of the ship -slammed into the plain. For perhaps fifty Earth miles the ship cut -its screaming swath across the bosom of the naked plain. Then motion -stopped, and the tape showed nothing but the dead land for minute after -minute. - -"All right," said Doc, and Jon reached for the switch. - - * * * * * - -Then motion showed on the screen. A sphere came out of the side, rolled -up to the nose of the ship, hesitated, then rolled on almost out of the -range of the lens. Then it simply disappeared. The tape whirred on to -its end, and the machine clicked off. - -"Now what in the name of the Sacred Blick of Venus," said Jon, "was -that?" - -"I pass," replied Doc. "Let's see that again." - -They saw it again. And again. What appeared to be a solid sphere of -shiny black metal rolled across the plain, paused before the nose of -the ship, rolled on--and simply disappeared! - -"Well," said Doc at last, "this is still Exploration Unit X-3. First we -eat, then we start getting this all down on tapes. Then we check the -ship, and maybe we take a look-see around. Then we get the hell out of -here. But first we eat." - -Jon busied himself breaking out the rations. This consisted of -picking two tins out of the locker, rapping them sharply on the rod -that protruded from the case and setting them aside. In about thirty -seconds the tins emitted a tired sigh and the lids raised slightly. The -portions of food, each in its own clear plastic bag, were hot and ready. - -Doc dropped his postprandial cigarette into the disposal slot and came -to his feet. - -"On your feet, Fly-boy," he ordered. "Plenty workee, so chop chop, up -and at it." - -"Slave driver," sneered Jon. He squirmed into his antirad suit. He -poised the helmet and fired his blast. "I gotta sweat my head off, back -there, and you play with tapes up here. Talk about your men and boys. -Hah!" And he dogged down the helmet. He could see Doc's lips moving and -grinned pleasantly. He made motions to show that he wasn't hearing a -word. - -He was still grinning when he undogged the tunnel lock and closed -it behind him. Between the double doors, he twisted his body in the -cramped space to undog the second door. When it swung open, he had to -crawl through the narrow opening into the tunnel. He thrust head and -shoulders into the opening, and the weight of the world fell on him. -He was jammed against the floor with an unbearable weight, and the -threshold of the lock-door was slowly cutting him in two. - -"Doc!" he screamed into the mouthpiece in his helmet. "Doc, give me a -hand!" Then a cold hand closed over his heart. - -_The transmitter was off!_ In his horseplay he had not turned the knob, -and now his hands were welded to the floor by the crushing weight. - -He lashed out frantically with his lead-soled feet, for they could -still move. He tried to pound the lead soles in the distress code, but -the pain of his crushed ribs was telegraphing down his nerves and the -rhythm was erratic. - -_Here it comes_, he thought bleakly, and a black wave curled over his -thoughts. - -He caught his breath and gagged. He looked up into Doc's anxious eyes -and pulled the mask that was feeding him oxygen off his face. - -"Whoosh," he said. "What was that?" - -"Just plain gravity," replied Doc. "The Stable-G unit just covers the -flight-compartment here, as you well know. When you stuck your head -into the tunnel, you went over the edge, and the part of you that was -in the tunnel must have weighed tons. I had to put a power winch on you -to drag you out. Wonder it didn't pull you in two. We'd have thought of -that if we both hadn't been trying to be funny." They considered this -soberly for some minutes. - -"Well," said Jon, raising a soothing hand to his aching neck, "that -takes care of that. The drive compartment is out of bounds for us until -we can get Stable-G into that tunnel." - -"Yes," said Doc shortly. He turned to the rack where he had been -working. He tossed the correlation tapes to Jon. - -"Read 'em and weep," he said grimly. - -Jon skimmed the tapes quickly. Twice he went back and checked the cold -merciless facts. Finally he looked up and took a deep breath. It was -unescapable fact, this asteroid was radio-active. It was only a matter -of time until the ship would be contaminated. - -"How long?" He forced his voice into steadiness. - -Doc tapped a cigarette alight and took a deep lungful of smoke. He -pursed his lips and gazed at the glowing end with deep distaste. -"Between three and four days," he said slowly. "Say seventy-two hours -to be safe." - -"Well," said Jon, "let's see about getting this can the hell out of -here." He settled himself in his seat and his experienced hands ran -smoothly over the multitude of controls. - -The amber READY light slowly slid through the spectrum until it -reached green. Then the red warning lights came on above the firing -switches. - -"Set," he said over his shoulder, and Doc slid into his shock-chair and -clicked the switch. "Right," said Doc. - -Jon flipped the three toggle switches and shoved the red power lever -full ahead. The ship quivered, and the tiny shudders of strain -telegraphed their way up to Jon's sensitive nerves. But the ship moved -not at all. Jon cursed softly and threw the auxiliaries on. The sense -of strain grew until it was nearly unbearable. The ship edged ahead, -six inches, six more, then the warning lights began to pop on above the -control panel. - -Jon groaned, and cut power. He swiveled around. - -"That's all," he said, "unless you want to get out and push." They -unstrapped silently and lighted cigarettes without looking at each -other. Unconsciously their eyes went to the Geiger. It clicked softly, -and the sensitive needle jumped half across the dial and fell back. The -needle of the accumulator dial was already lifting off the pin. Again -the Geiger clicked and the needle jumped. - -"Well," said Doc tiredly, "let's start getting it down on record tape. -It may do some good someday." - - * * * * * - -The transmitter was set on automatic, and was tirelessly throwing out -its XER, XER, XER, in Interplanetary Code. But only a hissing roar -came from the speaker tuned to the Explocenter channel. Doc got up and -turned the volume down. He rubbed his hands together briskly. - -"Let's go out and have a look-see," he suggested. - -"You nuts?" inquired Jon sourly. "We'd be squashed like a couple of -bugs the second we step off Stable-G." - -Ole Doc thought about that. We put a small Stable-G unit on each foot -of a space suit and run them off the dynamics in the suit. By coupling -the secondary off the S-G unit on the right foot to the metal suit, and -the primary of the left one ditto, we can convert the whole suit into -a S-G, and be as safe as if we were in church. Just to be safe, we'll -hook up a suit and shove it into the air-lock to test it. - -It worked. - -Doc insisted on being the first out. He ran a loop of eighth-inch -shielded warping line through the towing rings on the shoulders of his -suit and grounded the shielding to the suit with a dab of welding metal. - -"If I get stuck, Jon," his voice came tinnily through the phones, "haul -me back with the winch. And whatever you do, watch the weld on your end -of the shielding. There should be enough juice in it to keep it inert." -Jon nodded, and Doc broke the seal on the outer door. - -For a split-second the air glittered with pinpoints of light as the -moisture in the air-lock solidified. Then the crystals blinked out -as the further cold broke the solids into their separate gasses and -dispersed them. Doc slowly descended the ladder to the ground. His -voice kept up a steady drone, feeding information to Jon and to the -recorders tuned in on the control panel. - -"I am clear of the ship now, by about twenty meters. Surface seems to -be a sort of metallic sand--granulated at least--but solid as steel. My -relative weight seems to be about 1.5, with S-G unit at maximum. The -area seems to be absolutely barren, without even a hummock or dune in -sight. The.... Whup! There's one of those things--those spheres--just -ahead, about thirty degrees off the ship's nose. Stand by--I'm coming -back to the air-lock." - -Jon swiftly hauled in the slack in the line, hand over hand, and -pressed the winch control to feed the slack onto the drum. - -"Hold it," came Doc's voice. "It's disappeared again. Whup! Now there's -one over here on my right, at about a hundred meters. Spherical shape, -black, about five and a half or six meters in diameter ... now it seems -to be settling into the surface; assuming a hemispherical form.... -Whup! Disappeared again! Reel me in, Jon. We've got to get some -high-speed shots of this." - -It never occurred to either of them that there was no point in making -these recordings. Explocenter hand-picked its men, and insatiable -curiosity was the first requisite. Quick judgment and moral stamina -came next. And first, last, and always--'get it down on records'. - -The Geiger clicked softly on the bulk-head and the needle of the -accumulator was working toward the red area, but neither paused to -consider these things now. They had made their try, exhausted their -resources. - - * * * * * - -But in the back of their minds was the knowledge that within a -few months a statistician at Explocenter would mark Explounit X-3 -"missing", and at the end of the year two more names would be added -to the column at Explocenter; that shaft of gray venustron that stood -beside the main entrance, whereon was the long, long scroll of names. -Simple monument to the men of Explocenter who never came back. - -"We can't take the big tele-lens outside," mused Doc, "so we'll have to -record off the visi-plate. I'll go outside again, and spot for you, and -you can line the 'plate on my bearings." - -"Huh-uh. My turn," retorted Jon. "Why should you have all the fun? I'm -going out this time, and you can shoot pictures to your little heart's -content. Besides, I'm going to tuck my little personal camera into my -helmet under my chin and get some shots on the spot." - -"All right," snorted Doc. "But don't come crying to papa if you stub -your toe. And look both ways before you cross the street. Here--let me -blow your nose before you go out in the cold." - -"Aw go to Helios, you retort-smasher. If I run into a ground squirrel, -I'll skin him and bring you some hair." - -Jon eased down the ladder and shuffled across the smooth surface until -he was well clear of the ship. - -"Nothing yet," he reported, and swept the horizon with his glance. - -"I could have told you," said Doc nastily. "Your ugly face scared them -away." - -"Yeah," snorted Jon. "Every stenotyper at Explo has your beautiful mug -pasted in the top drawer of her desk." - -"Sure!" agreed Doc smugly. - -"Well," said Jon impatiently, and under his breath. "Come on, you black -boogers--I ain't got all day." Then he gulped. - -For a huge black sphere materialized about fifty meters to his left -and rolled swiftly toward him. Jon beat a hasty retreat. He backed -toward the ship, and jogged the camera under his chin to start it -operating. The sphere paused a second, then rolled slowly after him. - -"Steady," came Doc's voice in the phones. "I got a dis-ray on it." - -Jon felt better, though he knew that a dis-ray blast this close to him -would fricassee him too. He told Doc so. - -"What's the difference?" inquired Doc, the first note of their doom in -his voice. "Fast or slow--take your choice." - -"Take your pictures, ground-hog," grunted Jon. "I'll do the heavy -thinking around here." - -"Don't sprain your neck with it, Fly-boy." - -It was that dull black hopelessness in the back of Jon's mind that gave -him the bravado that he showed then. He took a quick step toward the -sphere. - -"Scat," he snarled savagely, and waved his arms. "Shoo! Get lost!" - -Then his mouth gaped. It was gone! Vanished! - -"Doc!" he yelled, "did you see that?" - -"Yup," came Doc's matter-of-fact voice. "Got it all here on the tape. -Blip! Gone, just like before." - -"That isn't what I mean," protested Jon. His brain was staggered by the -half-formed thoughts that crowded it. "Now get this, Doc." - -He shouted, "Come back here! Right here in front of me." For the space -of three slow heartbeats nothing happened. Then, with the air of having -been there all the time, the sphere materialized. - -Breathing carefully, Jon said. "Roll toward me." The sphere hesitated a -second, then came obediently toward him. - -"Stop!" said Jon. The sphere was stock-still in the instant. - -"Doc," cried Jon, excitement cracking his voice, "these star-blasted -boogers can think!" - -"Come on in out of the sun, Fly-boy," said Doc wearily. "The heat's -getting you. It's coincidence. Or you moved to attract it, or -something." - -"No," protested Jon. "Now look. I'm going to cut off my trans, but I'll -call my shots first. I'm going to have it roll left, then right, then -back to center. Got that? Left, right, and back to center. Over and -out." And Jon cut off his transmitter. - - * * * * * - -He stood stock-still and formed the impression in his mind. _Now roll -to my left_, he thought. The blank sphere moved to the spot indicated. -_Now to my right._ The huge sphere obeyed the mental commands with the -joyous precision of a rookie Space Patrolman who has just learned his -Parade Manual. - -For fifteen minutes Jon put the hulking ball through its paces, and -then as suddenly as it had appeared, the rapport was lost. The sphere -trundled off across the plain, oblivious to Jon's commands, and finally -settled to a hemisphere in the distance. Jon opened his trans. - -"Yah," came Doc's disgusted voice. "He never jumped through no hoop." - -"Drop it," retorted Jon curtly. "He got tired of it. Did you get it all -down?" - -"Every bit of it. Better come on in now, and we'll look it over." - -Jon was suddenly tired, and he thought of the soft chairs in the -Flight Room. But there would be that damned Geiger clicking, and the -accumulator needle working into the red. - -Jon knew suddenly that he was not going back to the ship. _What's the -percentage in waiting for it_, he thought, _when I might as well be -taking a look-see over the hill? Oh, come now Jon-me-lad, what hill?_ - -Into the trans he said, "Put a lamp in the window, Mother Dear. I'm -going to look the sitchy-ation over. I'll hold on the line of the ship -to the horizon, then bear right on the circle till I get back. Have -supper ready--and please, no horse-radish in the broccoli." - -Doc's voice came through with a trace of worry in it. "We shouldn't -separate until we know more about this." - -"To quote an outstanding authority," said Jon, "one Randall E. 'Doc' -Martin, 'what's the difference? Fast or slow--take your choice'. End of -quote." - -"All right," agreed Doc tiredly. "But Jon, don't do, uh, anything rash." - -"G'bye, Clabberhead," retorted Jon fondly. "Over and out." - -Black depression settled on Jon as he trudged toward the horizon. -Unwilling impressions returned to his brain. He remembered the crew -of the XP-14. Their converter had been cracked in a jet blowout. The -commander was in the Rest Home on Venus. His head and shoulders looked -like a mushroom. Colloids. Lucky, everybody said, just a light burn. -His brain was still good. - -So he carried his obscenity of a head around and found his way with a -radar rod. Some of the others weren't so lucky; the flesh melted off -their bones. Some of them had glowed before they died. - -_I'll stick with it until the time limit's up_, he thought, _then I'll -blast my suit or cut the S-G circuit. Quick and easy._ - -He approached the sphere--hemisphere now--and wondered casually why it -assumed that shape. Feeding, probably. But what would a metal ball eat? -On the other hand, how did it receive his mental commands? _Drop it, -Jonny, you're just going in circles._ - -The sphere popped back into shape at his approach and circled -coquettishly about him. It stopped before him and seemed to be waiting. -Jon grinned. - -"Booger, you ear-banger, you're bucking for stripes. All right.... To -the rear, MARCH!" Booger spun on his axis and trundled briskly away. - -"Halt! By the right oblique, MARCH! RIGHT!... WHEEL! Halt! At Ease!" -Booger came patiently to rest. - - * * * * * - -The fancy came over Jon that it would indeed be a sight to organize a -drill team of these spheres. "Booger," he thought suddenly, "where are -your friends? You can't be the only one on this Godforsaken world. Go -get 'em, Booger." Booger sat for a bit and then rolled playfully to and -fro. - -Jon phrased his thoughts carefully. He visualized a double row of -Boogers, five to the row, before him. _Go get the rest of them, -Booger_, he thought. Booger quivered, and then like snapping off a -light tube, he was gone. - -Within ten seconds, he popped back. Beside him a twin materialized, -then two more. - -Finally all ten of them were there, in two rows of five. - -"Squad, Right Face!" ordered Jon. "Forward MARCH! HALT! Hey, dress -up those ranks there." The right-end sphere in the front rank was at -least two meters out of position. Booger broke ranks without orders -and trundled swiftly to the side of the offending one, wheeled in a -short arc and vigorously hunched him into position. Jon applauded with -space-gloved hands. - -[Illustration: "_Squad, Right Face! Forward MARCH! HALT!_"] - -"All right, Booger, you win. You are hereby promoted to Corporal of the -Drake Irregulars. Now let's see some snappy close-order drill." - -They drilled for some minutes, and then in a particularly tricky -maneuver, the squad went to pieces. Two of them simply vanished. Three -of them squatted--that was the only word Jon could find to fit--into -hemispheres, and the rest either stopped or trundled about aimlessly. - -"Well all right," said Jon with dignity. "Squad dismissed." He turned -away to continue his tramp, and stopped with a startled gasp. There -were spheres all about him. Ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty--there must be -at least fifty of them, he calculated. - -"Well, this is cozy," he said. "If I'd known I was working before an -audience, I'd shown you some real drilling. Some audience, sitting on -your hands." - -He walked through the throng of them, giving them plenty of leeway -in case one of them decided to roll his way. One, he thought it must -be the one he had named Booger, followed him slowly. He got a good -close-up look at several of them. - -Smooth sleek balls they were, with shiny metallic surfaces, unbroken by -any mark. No eyes, no feeding orifices, just smooth spheres. - -_What a bunch of bowling balls you'd make_, he thought, _if we just had -some pins_. Then he gasped. - -At least six of them had extruded necks and _were_ huge bowling pins! - -"Now wait a minute," he gasped. "Do that again." They did. It seemed to -be contagious. Within a few seconds he was surrounded by a veritable -gallery of bowling pins, ten meters high! - -He closed his eyes and counted to twenty--slowly. Then he snapped his -eyes open quickly. They were still there. - -"Doc was right," he groaned. "The heat's getting me." Then his -whimsical humor made him think, _Booger, come here!_ - -One of the anonymous pins sprang back into a sphere and trundled to -him. Jon made a sweeping gesture. - -"Knock 'em down," he ordered. Booger took a rolling start and smashed -into the ranks of pins with the enthusiasm of a runaway space tug. The -earth-quaking impact shook Jon off his feet. He lay stretched on his -belly laughing hysterically at the ludicrous sight. - -_Steady lad_, some sane corner of his brain whispered. _Steady. This is -no time to go to pieces._ - -_What the hell_, he retorted to himself. _At least the condemned man -had a hearty laugh._ But he pulled himself to his feet and trudged back -to the ship. - - * * * * * - -Doc silently busied himself with the storage of the new reels after -they had eaten. - -"I found out how they do that disappearing act," he said finally. -"It showed up on the high-speed shots. They shoot out a long -pseudopod--like a wire. Then they snap back into a sphere at the other -end. It's simply darned fast locomotion." - -"Yes," agreed Jon, "and they can shape themselves into bowling pins and -stuff too. And hold it. Their shape, I mean." - -A thought was uncurling in Jon's mind. "Doc, do you suppose ... by -golly, it's _got_ to work!" - -And Doc was watching with astonished red-rimmed eyes as Jon slid -through the neck of his space suit in its stand in the corner. Jon's -voice faded out and came in over the speaker as the wrench settled the -helmet in its seat and fell away. - -"Warm up the converter, Doc. You'll have to handle that end this -time. When I give the word, throw everything on--mains, auxiliaries, -steering, everything. I'll have to do my end from the air-lock. And -whatever you do, _don't cut acceleration until we're out of orbit and -on course away_. Chop chop, chum." - -Doc gaped at the door of the air-lock for a second, then shrugged and -started closing switches. If the hottest spaceman of Explocenter said -"try" ... well, what could you lose? - -Jon's voice came in over the speaker again. "Booger! Booger, you big -lump, come here. Doc, I'm cutting off trans for a minute, it seems to -work better when I think it to him." - -The seconds ticked off into minutes, and the READY light was full -green. Doc's hand trembled a bit on the firing levers, and he checked -the restrainers in his shock-chair for the third time. - -Thirty seconds dragged by, and sweat budded on his forehead. "What in -Helios is he ..." he muttered, and then the speaker crackled with the -one word: "NOW!" - -Doc slammed the firing levers home, and instantly was driven deep into -his shock-chair. Blackness washed out his trailing thought, _Leaping -Luna, what is this doing to Jon? There is no shock-pad in the air-lock._ - -It did plenty. It took all of Doc's skill and three weeks at Venusenter -before the brash spaceman was clamoring for active duty. - -"You see, Doc," he answered the question, "Booger and the rest were -telepathic--one way at least. I had him gather about fifty of them, so -if one or two quit on the job, it wouldn't make too much difference. -Then I had them extrude themselves into cables clear over the horizon. -I had them hook their ... well, tail ends onto the fins of the ship. -Then I gave them the word to get over the hill--fast. With our power, -and their catapult action, it worked just like a Plutonian Cradle. Gave -us that extra boost we needed." - -"But what was their incentive?" inquired Doc. "What made them take your -orders?" - -Jon grinned broadly. "They ain't very smart. And life there is pretty -monotonous. It tickled them to have some one give them something to do. -Besides that, just before I passed the word to Booger, I commissioned -him Commander-in-Chief of Drake's Irregulars. Authority-crazy, that -Booger." - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MADCAP METALLOIDS *** - -***** This file should be named 63843-0.txt or 63843-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/4/63843/ - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. 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Athanas. - </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; -} - -.caption p -{ - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; - margin: 0.25em 0; -} - -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; -} - - </style> - </head> -<body> -<pre style='margin-bottom:6em;'>The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Madcap Metalloids, by W.V. Athanas - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Madcap Metalloids - -Author: W.V. Athanas - -Release Date: November 22, 2020 [EBook #63843] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MADCAP METALLOIDS *** -</pre> -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>The Madcap Metalloids</h1> - -<h2>By W. V. ATHANAS</h2> - -<p>Plucked from the space-lanes by its ravening<br /> -magnetism, the two intrepid Terrans defied the<br /> -death of this deadly radio-active worldlet<br /> -by playing games with the roly-poly natives!</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Summer 1949.<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>Jonathan Drake swam back to consciousness as a bubble rises through -molasses—slowly, and with great effort. His arms lay heavily on the -padded rests of the shock-chair, and his lids drooped persistently -despite the shouted commands of his brain. A bubble of air rose -reluctantly up his throat to operate his paralyzed vocal cords.</p> - -<p>"Doc," he croaked. "Doc?" The words bounced off the polished metal -walls of the room. There was no sound after that but the soft purr of -the control board.</p> - -<p>Jonathan walked his hand along the arm rest like a spider, each finger -a leg drawing the weighted hand a step further like a tremendous body. -Finally a finger found the cup of the release button, and the pneumatic -pads fell free of thigh, belly and chest. He slid the button forward -and the shock-seat tilted him forward and decanted him gently onto the -floor.</p> - -<p>He could hear Doc breathing now, the sound of it harsh above the quiet -humming of the dynamics, and he rolled on over and heaved his body off -the floor with both arms.</p> - -<p>"Puny," he muttered to himself. "Weak as a baby. Must have been a rough -landing."</p> - -<p>He fought his way to his hands and knees, but his body rebelled at the -task of rising to his feet.</p> - -<p><i>This is getting to where it ain't funny</i>, he thought, and scrambled -with great effort to the control board.</p> - -<p>He had a look at the G-gauge and whistled softly. 3.4! <i>Leaping Luna, -no wonder!</i> He forced his hand to the knurled knob of the control lever -and clicked it down four notches. He held it there a moment, then eased -it back a fraction by twisting the knob. The dynamics' hum rose a note -and the weight began to fall from him.</p> - -<p>He stepped swiftly to the other shock-chair and released the -restrainers with one impatient stabbing finger. Doc had a bluish tinge -about his mouth and his breathing was a bit ragged.</p> - -<p>"Doc," said Jon sharply. He thumbed one of Doc's eyes open and studied -the pupil. "Too much deceleration," he muttered, and wheeled to the -black kit on the wall.</p> - -<p>His eye caught the visi-plate over the control panel in passing, and -he gave the bleak plain it showed a casual glance. Something round and -black traveled across the field of vision, but was gone almost as soon -as it caught his attention. He flicked a quick look to see that the -automatic cameras were recording, and returned to Doc.</p> - -<p>Doc made no response to the jab of the needle, but within ten seconds -the color flooded to his face and he snapped his head up with alert -attention.</p> - -<p>"We made it," said Doc with instant comprehension. Doc was bald as an -egg, though he was not yet thirty-five, and his lips were red and full -and smiled easily. Behind those twinkling blue eyes—as Jon knew full -well—was a brain that operated at its peak during stress, a mind that -knew neither dismay nor panic.</p> - -<p>His eyes twinkled now with sharp inquiry. "How does it look, Jon?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The lean dark-haired pilot shrugged. "I haven't seen much of it yet. -Instruments show that we aren't cracked—outer and inner hulls still -holding pressure. Tremendous gravity, no atmosphere. Entire area -slightly radio-active. Haven't had time to check the recording tapes -yet. I blacked out about the same time you did."</p> - -<p>Doc caught his lower lip between his white even teeth for a moment. -Then he tilted himself out of the shock-chair and rolled the stiffness -out of his broad shoulders. "Tapes first," he said.</p> - -<p>Jon clipped another reel into the recorder and stopped the whirring of -the one he wanted. He slipped it onto the reversing spindle, pulled -out the tag-end inside and fed it into the slot. Then he tapped two -cigarettes alight on his thumbnail, gave one to Doc and stepped back to -watch.</p> - -<p>The asteroid showed up with surprising suddenness out of the void that -was deep space. Its outlines were blurry at first, but sharpened as -the spotter focused on it. It was traveling at tremendous speed, for -the star patterns behind it changed even as they watched. The metallic -voice of the sound track came in now, recording the instrument readings.</p> - -<p>"Ship's course Z-point RD 3784. Object's course Z-point AD 1892." The -speaker droned on with data, speed of ship, computed speed of object, -drive ratings. Then: "Collision course. Collision course. Repeating. -Collision course."</p> - -<p>The black mass of the asteroid shifted on the screen and momentarily -went out of focus as the ship spun on its axis and the rear viewers -took over. Then the scene was streaked with flame as the main jets put -on full emergency deceleration.</p> - -<p>The rest of the recording tape was nightmarish. The flaring of the jets -stuttered—then stopped. The dispassionate mechanical voice of the -speaker reported the main converter feed jammed, and almost instantly -reported that auxiliary units were operating.</p> - -<p>Doc shuddered reminiscently at this. He recalled the tortuous crawl -through the tunnel into the converter room, the shoving of the screen -ahead of him in the flickering blue glow of the room, the unjamming of -the 'foolproof' feeding reel that had been installed especially for -this exploration.</p> - -<p>The twenty minutes it took had been enough. The ship lurched to the -pull of this concentrated hulk of God-knew-what, and went into a tight -orbit around the asteroid.</p> - -<p>They were just too close. They came in lower and lower, and finally -Jon threw on full power. Hobson's choice. Fall into the mass or kill -themselves with high-G deceleration. Jon chose deceleration.</p> - -<p>Both pairs of eyes watched the changing pictures with fascinated gaze. -This was where they had blacked out.</p> - -<p>It was sheer luck. The tape showed that they had gone tumbling -across the bleak land below in a crazy pinwheeling motion. The nose -dropped forward into the line of flight just as the belly of the ship -slammed into the plain. For perhaps fifty Earth miles the ship cut -its screaming swath across the bosom of the naked plain. Then motion -stopped, and the tape showed nothing but the dead land for minute after -minute.</p> - -<p>"All right," said Doc, and Jon reached for the switch.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then motion showed on the screen. A sphere came out of the side, rolled -up to the nose of the ship, hesitated, then rolled on almost out of the -range of the lens. Then it simply disappeared. The tape whirred on to -its end, and the machine clicked off.</p> - -<p>"Now what in the name of the Sacred Blick of Venus," said Jon, "was -that?"</p> - -<p>"I pass," replied Doc. "Let's see that again."</p> - -<p>They saw it again. And again. What appeared to be a solid sphere of -shiny black metal rolled across the plain, paused before the nose of -the ship, rolled on—and simply disappeared!</p> - -<p>"Well," said Doc at last, "this is still Exploration Unit X-3. First we -eat, then we start getting this all down on tapes. Then we check the -ship, and maybe we take a look-see around. Then we get the hell out of -here. But first we eat."</p> - -<p>Jon busied himself breaking out the rations. This consisted of -picking two tins out of the locker, rapping them sharply on the rod -that protruded from the case and setting them aside. In about thirty -seconds the tins emitted a tired sigh and the lids raised slightly. The -portions of food, each in its own clear plastic bag, were hot and ready.</p> - -<p>Doc dropped his postprandial cigarette into the disposal slot and came -to his feet.</p> - -<p>"On your feet, Fly-boy," he ordered. "Plenty workee, so chop chop, up -and at it."</p> - -<p>"Slave driver," sneered Jon. He squirmed into his antirad suit. He -poised the helmet and fired his blast. "I gotta sweat my head off, back -there, and you play with tapes up here. Talk about your men and boys. -Hah!" And he dogged down the helmet. He could see Doc's lips moving and -grinned pleasantly. He made motions to show that he wasn't hearing a -word.</p> - -<p>He was still grinning when he undogged the tunnel lock and closed -it behind him. Between the double doors, he twisted his body in the -cramped space to undog the second door. When it swung open, he had to -crawl through the narrow opening into the tunnel. He thrust head and -shoulders into the opening, and the weight of the world fell on him. -He was jammed against the floor with an unbearable weight, and the -threshold of the lock-door was slowly cutting him in two.</p> - -<p>"Doc!" he screamed into the mouthpiece in his helmet. "Doc, give me a -hand!" Then a cold hand closed over his heart.</p> - -<p><i>The transmitter was off!</i> In his horseplay he had not turned the knob, -and now his hands were welded to the floor by the crushing weight.</p> - -<p>He lashed out frantically with his lead-soled feet, for they could -still move. He tried to pound the lead soles in the distress code, but -the pain of his crushed ribs was telegraphing down his nerves and the -rhythm was erratic.</p> - -<p><i>Here it comes</i>, he thought bleakly, and a black wave curled over his -thoughts.</p> - -<p>He caught his breath and gagged. He looked up into Doc's anxious eyes -and pulled the mask that was feeding him oxygen off his face.</p> - -<p>"Whoosh," he said. "What was that?"</p> - -<p>"Just plain gravity," replied Doc. "The Stable-G unit just covers the -flight-compartment here, as you well know. When you stuck your head -into the tunnel, you went over the edge, and the part of you that was -in the tunnel must have weighed tons. I had to put a power winch on you -to drag you out. Wonder it didn't pull you in two. We'd have thought of -that if we both hadn't been trying to be funny." They considered this -soberly for some minutes.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Jon, raising a soothing hand to his aching neck, "that -takes care of that. The drive compartment is out of bounds for us until -we can get Stable-G into that tunnel."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Doc shortly. He turned to the rack where he had been -working. He tossed the correlation tapes to Jon.</p> - -<p>"Read 'em and weep," he said grimly.</p> - -<p>Jon skimmed the tapes quickly. Twice he went back and checked the cold -merciless facts. Finally he looked up and took a deep breath. It was -unescapable fact, this asteroid was radio-active. It was only a matter -of time until the ship would be contaminated.</p> - -<p>"How long?" He forced his voice into steadiness.</p> - -<p>Doc tapped a cigarette alight and took a deep lungful of smoke. He -pursed his lips and gazed at the glowing end with deep distaste. -"Between three and four days," he said slowly. "Say seventy-two hours -to be safe."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Jon, "let's see about getting this can the hell out of -here." He settled himself in his seat and his experienced hands ran -smoothly over the multitude of controls.</p> - -<p>The amber READY light slowly slid through the spectrum until it -reached green. Then the red warning lights came on above the firing -switches.</p> - -<p>"Set," he said over his shoulder, and Doc slid into his shock-chair and -clicked the switch. "Right," said Doc.</p> - -<p>Jon flipped the three toggle switches and shoved the red power lever -full ahead. The ship quivered, and the tiny shudders of strain -telegraphed their way up to Jon's sensitive nerves. But the ship moved -not at all. Jon cursed softly and threw the auxiliaries on. The sense -of strain grew until it was nearly unbearable. The ship edged ahead, -six inches, six more, then the warning lights began to pop on above the -control panel.</p> - -<p>Jon groaned, and cut power. He swiveled around.</p> - -<p>"That's all," he said, "unless you want to get out and push." They -unstrapped silently and lighted cigarettes without looking at each -other. Unconsciously their eyes went to the Geiger. It clicked softly, -and the sensitive needle jumped half across the dial and fell back. The -needle of the accumulator dial was already lifting off the pin. Again -the Geiger clicked and the needle jumped.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Doc tiredly, "let's start getting it down on record tape. -It may do some good someday."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The transmitter was set on automatic, and was tirelessly throwing out -its XER, XER, XER, in Interplanetary Code. But only a hissing roar -came from the speaker tuned to the Explocenter channel. Doc got up and -turned the volume down. He rubbed his hands together briskly.</p> - -<p>"Let's go out and have a look-see," he suggested.</p> - -<p>"You nuts?" inquired Jon sourly. "We'd be squashed like a couple of -bugs the second we step off Stable-G."</p> - -<p>Ole Doc thought about that. We put a small Stable-G unit on each foot -of a space suit and run them off the dynamics in the suit. By coupling -the secondary off the S-G unit on the right foot to the metal suit, and -the primary of the left one ditto, we can convert the whole suit into -a S-G, and be as safe as if we were in church. Just to be safe, we'll -hook up a suit and shove it into the air-lock to test it.</p> - -<p>It worked.</p> - -<p>Doc insisted on being the first out. He ran a loop of eighth-inch -shielded warping line through the towing rings on the shoulders of his -suit and grounded the shielding to the suit with a dab of welding metal.</p> - -<p>"If I get stuck, Jon," his voice came tinnily through the phones, "haul -me back with the winch. And whatever you do, watch the weld on your end -of the shielding. There should be enough juice in it to keep it inert." -Jon nodded, and Doc broke the seal on the outer door.</p> - -<p>For a split-second the air glittered with pinpoints of light as the -moisture in the air-lock solidified. Then the crystals blinked out -as the further cold broke the solids into their separate gasses and -dispersed them. Doc slowly descended the ladder to the ground. His -voice kept up a steady drone, feeding information to Jon and to the -recorders tuned in on the control panel.</p> - -<p>"I am clear of the ship now, by about twenty meters. Surface seems to -be a sort of metallic sand—granulated at least—but solid as steel. My -relative weight seems to be about 1.5, with S-G unit at maximum. The -area seems to be absolutely barren, without even a hummock or dune in -sight. The.... Whup! There's one of those things—those spheres—just -ahead, about thirty degrees off the ship's nose. Stand by—I'm coming -back to the air-lock."</p> - -<p>Jon swiftly hauled in the slack in the line, hand over hand, and -pressed the winch control to feed the slack onto the drum.</p> - -<p>"Hold it," came Doc's voice. "It's disappeared again. Whup! Now there's -one over here on my right, at about a hundred meters. Spherical shape, -black, about five and a half or six meters in diameter ... now it seems -to be settling into the surface; assuming a hemispherical form.... -Whup! Disappeared again! Reel me in, Jon. We've got to get some -high-speed shots of this."</p> - -<p>It never occurred to either of them that there was no point in making -these recordings. Explocenter hand-picked its men, and insatiable -curiosity was the first requisite. Quick judgment and moral stamina -came next. And first, last, and always—'get it down on records'.</p> - -<p>The Geiger clicked softly on the bulk-head and the needle of the -accumulator was working toward the red area, but neither paused to -consider these things now. They had made their try, exhausted their -resources.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>But in the back of their minds was the knowledge that within a -few months a statistician at Explocenter would mark Explounit X-3 -"missing", and at the end of the year two more names would be added -to the column at Explocenter; that shaft of gray venustron that stood -beside the main entrance, whereon was the long, long scroll of names. -Simple monument to the men of Explocenter who never came back.</p> - -<p>"We can't take the big tele-lens outside," mused Doc, "so we'll have to -record off the visi-plate. I'll go outside again, and spot for you, and -you can line the 'plate on my bearings."</p> - -<p>"Huh-uh. My turn," retorted Jon. "Why should you have all the fun? I'm -going out this time, and you can shoot pictures to your little heart's -content. Besides, I'm going to tuck my little personal camera into my -helmet under my chin and get some shots on the spot."</p> - -<p>"All right," snorted Doc. "But don't come crying to papa if you stub -your toe. And look both ways before you cross the street. Here—let me -blow your nose before you go out in the cold."</p> - -<p>"Aw go to Helios, you retort-smasher. If I run into a ground squirrel, -I'll skin him and bring you some hair."</p> - -<p>Jon eased down the ladder and shuffled across the smooth surface until -he was well clear of the ship.</p> - -<p>"Nothing yet," he reported, and swept the horizon with his glance.</p> - -<p>"I could have told you," said Doc nastily. "Your ugly face scared them -away."</p> - -<p>"Yeah," snorted Jon. "Every stenotyper at Explo has your beautiful mug -pasted in the top drawer of her desk."</p> - -<p>"Sure!" agreed Doc smugly.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Jon impatiently, and under his breath. "Come on, you black -boogers—I ain't got all day." Then he gulped.</p> - -<p>For a huge black sphere materialized about fifty meters to his left -and rolled swiftly toward him. Jon beat a hasty retreat. He backed -toward the ship, and jogged the camera under his chin to start it -operating. The sphere paused a second, then rolled slowly after him.</p> - -<p>"Steady," came Doc's voice in the phones. "I got a dis-ray on it."</p> - -<p>Jon felt better, though he knew that a dis-ray blast this close to him -would fricassee him too. He told Doc so.</p> - -<p>"What's the difference?" inquired Doc, the first note of their doom in -his voice. "Fast or slow—take your choice."</p> - -<p>"Take your pictures, ground-hog," grunted Jon. "I'll do the heavy -thinking around here."</p> - -<p>"Don't sprain your neck with it, Fly-boy."</p> - -<p>It was that dull black hopelessness in the back of Jon's mind that gave -him the bravado that he showed then. He took a quick step toward the -sphere.</p> - -<p>"Scat," he snarled savagely, and waved his arms. "Shoo! Get lost!"</p> - -<p>Then his mouth gaped. It was gone! Vanished!</p> - -<p>"Doc!" he yelled, "did you see that?"</p> - -<p>"Yup," came Doc's matter-of-fact voice. "Got it all here on the tape. -Blip! Gone, just like before."</p> - -<p>"That isn't what I mean," protested Jon. His brain was staggered by the -half-formed thoughts that crowded it. "Now get this, Doc."</p> - -<p>He shouted, "Come back here! Right here in front of me." For the space -of three slow heartbeats nothing happened. Then, with the air of having -been there all the time, the sphere materialized.</p> - -<p>Breathing carefully, Jon said. "Roll toward me." The sphere hesitated a -second, then came obediently toward him.</p> - -<p>"Stop!" said Jon. The sphere was stock-still in the instant.</p> - -<p>"Doc," cried Jon, excitement cracking his voice, "these star-blasted -boogers can think!"</p> - -<p>"Come on in out of the sun, Fly-boy," said Doc wearily. "The heat's -getting you. It's coincidence. Or you moved to attract it, or -something."</p> - -<p>"No," protested Jon. "Now look. I'm going to cut off my trans, but I'll -call my shots first. I'm going to have it roll left, then right, then -back to center. Got that? Left, right, and back to center. Over and -out." And Jon cut off his transmitter.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He stood stock-still and formed the impression in his mind. <i>Now roll -to my left</i>, he thought. The blank sphere moved to the spot indicated. -<i>Now to my right.</i> The huge sphere obeyed the mental commands with the -joyous precision of a rookie Space Patrolman who has just learned his -Parade Manual.</p> - -<p>For fifteen minutes Jon put the hulking ball through its paces, and -then as suddenly as it had appeared, the rapport was lost. The sphere -trundled off across the plain, oblivious to Jon's commands, and finally -settled to a hemisphere in the distance. Jon opened his trans.</p> - -<p>"Yah," came Doc's disgusted voice. "He never jumped through no hoop."</p> - -<p>"Drop it," retorted Jon curtly. "He got tired of it. Did you get it all -down?"</p> - -<p>"Every bit of it. Better come on in now, and we'll look it over."</p> - -<p>Jon was suddenly tired, and he thought of the soft chairs in the -Flight Room. But there would be that damned Geiger clicking, and the -accumulator needle working into the red.</p> - -<p>Jon knew suddenly that he was not going back to the ship. <i>What's the -percentage in waiting for it</i>, he thought, <i>when I might as well be -taking a look-see over the hill? Oh, come now Jon-me-lad, what hill?</i></p> - -<p>Into the trans he said, "Put a lamp in the window, Mother Dear. I'm -going to look the sitchy-ation over. I'll hold on the line of the ship -to the horizon, then bear right on the circle till I get back. Have -supper ready—and please, no horse-radish in the broccoli."</p> - -<p>Doc's voice came through with a trace of worry in it. "We shouldn't -separate until we know more about this."</p> - -<p>"To quote an outstanding authority," said Jon, "one Randall E. 'Doc' -Martin, 'what's the difference? Fast or slow—take your choice'. End of -quote."</p> - -<p>"All right," agreed Doc tiredly. "But Jon, don't do, uh, anything rash."</p> - -<p>"G'bye, Clabberhead," retorted Jon fondly. "Over and out."</p> - -<p>Black depression settled on Jon as he trudged toward the horizon. -Unwilling impressions returned to his brain. He remembered the crew -of the XP-14. Their converter had been cracked in a jet blowout. The -commander was in the Rest Home on Venus. His head and shoulders looked -like a mushroom. Colloids. Lucky, everybody said, just a light burn. -His brain was still good.</p> - -<p>So he carried his obscenity of a head around and found his way with a -radar rod. Some of the others weren't so lucky; the flesh melted off -their bones. Some of them had glowed before they died.</p> - -<p><i>I'll stick with it until the time limit's up</i>, he thought, <i>then I'll -blast my suit or cut the S-G circuit. Quick and easy.</i></p> - -<p>He approached the sphere—hemisphere now—and wondered casually why it -assumed that shape. Feeding, probably. But what would a metal ball eat? -On the other hand, how did it receive his mental commands? <i>Drop it, -Jonny, you're just going in circles.</i></p> - -<p>The sphere popped back into shape at his approach and circled -coquettishly about him. It stopped before him and seemed to be waiting. -Jon grinned.</p> - -<p>"Booger, you ear-banger, you're bucking for stripes. All right.... To -the rear, MARCH!" Booger spun on his axis and trundled briskly away.</p> - -<p>"Halt! By the right oblique, MARCH! RIGHT!... WHEEL! Halt! At Ease!" -Booger came patiently to rest.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The fancy came over Jon that it would indeed be a sight to organize a -drill team of these spheres. "Booger," he thought suddenly, "where are -your friends? You can't be the only one on this Godforsaken world. Go -get 'em, Booger." Booger sat for a bit and then rolled playfully to and -fro.</p> - -<p>Jon phrased his thoughts carefully. He visualized a double row of -Boogers, five to the row, before him. <i>Go get the rest of them, -Booger</i>, he thought. Booger quivered, and then like snapping off a -light tube, he was gone.</p> - -<p>Within ten seconds, he popped back. Beside him a twin materialized, -then two more.</p> - -<p>Finally all ten of them were there, in two rows of five.</p> - -<p>"Squad, Right Face!" ordered Jon. "Forward MARCH! HALT! Hey, dress -up those ranks there." The right-end sphere in the front rank was at -least two meters out of position. Booger broke ranks without orders -and trundled swiftly to the side of the offending one, wheeled in a -short arc and vigorously hunched him into position. Jon applauded with -space-gloved hands.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> - <div class="caption"> - <p>"<i>Squad, Right Face! Forward MARCH! HALT!</i>"</p> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"All right, Booger, you win. You are hereby promoted to Corporal of the -Drake Irregulars. Now let's see some snappy close-order drill."</p> - -<p>They drilled for some minutes, and then in a particularly tricky -maneuver, the squad went to pieces. Two of them simply vanished. Three -of them squatted—that was the only word Jon could find to fit—into -hemispheres, and the rest either stopped or trundled about aimlessly.</p> - -<p>"Well all right," said Jon with dignity. "Squad dismissed." He turned -away to continue his tramp, and stopped with a startled gasp. There -were spheres all about him. Ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty—there must be -at least fifty of them, he calculated.</p> - -<p>"Well, this is cozy," he said. "If I'd known I was working before an -audience, I'd shown you some real drilling. Some audience, sitting on -your hands."</p> - -<p>He walked through the throng of them, giving them plenty of leeway -in case one of them decided to roll his way. One, he thought it must -be the one he had named Booger, followed him slowly. He got a good -close-up look at several of them.</p> - -<p>Smooth sleek balls they were, with shiny metallic surfaces, unbroken by -any mark. No eyes, no feeding orifices, just smooth spheres.</p> - -<p><i>What a bunch of bowling balls you'd make</i>, he thought, <i>if we just had -some pins</i>. Then he gasped.</p> - -<p>At least six of them had extruded necks and <i>were</i> huge bowling pins!</p> - -<p>"Now wait a minute," he gasped. "Do that again." They did. It seemed to -be contagious. Within a few seconds he was surrounded by a veritable -gallery of bowling pins, ten meters high!</p> - -<p>He closed his eyes and counted to twenty—slowly. Then he snapped his -eyes open quickly. They were still there.</p> - -<p>"Doc was right," he groaned. "The heat's getting me." Then his -whimsical humor made him think, <i>Booger, come here!</i></p> - -<p>One of the anonymous pins sprang back into a sphere and trundled to -him. Jon made a sweeping gesture.</p> - -<p>"Knock 'em down," he ordered. Booger took a rolling start and smashed -into the ranks of pins with the enthusiasm of a runaway space tug. The -earth-quaking impact shook Jon off his feet. He lay stretched on his -belly laughing hysterically at the ludicrous sight.</p> - -<p><i>Steady lad</i>, some sane corner of his brain whispered. <i>Steady. This is -no time to go to pieces.</i></p> - -<p><i>What the hell</i>, he retorted to himself. <i>At least the condemned man -had a hearty laugh.</i> But he pulled himself to his feet and trudged back -to the ship.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Doc silently busied himself with the storage of the new reels after -they had eaten.</p> - -<p>"I found out how they do that disappearing act," he said finally. -"It showed up on the high-speed shots. They shoot out a long -pseudopod—like a wire. Then they snap back into a sphere at the other -end. It's simply darned fast locomotion."</p> - -<p>"Yes," agreed Jon, "and they can shape themselves into bowling pins and -stuff too. And hold it. Their shape, I mean."</p> - -<p>A thought was uncurling in Jon's mind. "Doc, do you suppose ... by -golly, it's <i>got</i> to work!"</p> - -<p>And Doc was watching with astonished red-rimmed eyes as Jon slid -through the neck of his space suit in its stand in the corner. Jon's -voice faded out and came in over the speaker as the wrench settled the -helmet in its seat and fell away.</p> - -<p>"Warm up the converter, Doc. You'll have to handle that end this -time. When I give the word, throw everything on—mains, auxiliaries, -steering, everything. I'll have to do my end from the air-lock. And -whatever you do, <i>don't cut acceleration until we're out of orbit and -on course away</i>. Chop chop, chum."</p> - -<p>Doc gaped at the door of the air-lock for a second, then shrugged and -started closing switches. If the hottest spaceman of Explocenter said -"try" ... well, what could you lose?</p> - -<p>Jon's voice came in over the speaker again. "Booger! Booger, you big -lump, come here. Doc, I'm cutting off trans for a minute, it seems to -work better when I think it to him."</p> - -<p>The seconds ticked off into minutes, and the READY light was full -green. Doc's hand trembled a bit on the firing levers, and he checked -the restrainers in his shock-chair for the third time.</p> - -<p>Thirty seconds dragged by, and sweat budded on his forehead. "What in -Helios is he ..." he muttered, and then the speaker crackled with the -one word: "NOW!"</p> - -<p>Doc slammed the firing levers home, and instantly was driven deep into -his shock-chair. Blackness washed out his trailing thought, <i>Leaping -Luna, what is this doing to Jon? There is no shock-pad in the air-lock.</i></p> - -<p>It did plenty. It took all of Doc's skill and three weeks at Venusenter -before the brash spaceman was clamoring for active duty.</p> - -<p>"You see, Doc," he answered the question, "Booger and the rest were -telepathic—one way at least. I had him gather about fifty of them, so -if one or two quit on the job, it wouldn't make too much difference. -Then I had them extrude themselves into cables clear over the horizon. -I had them hook their ... well, tail ends onto the fins of the ship. -Then I gave them the word to get over the hill—fast. With our power, -and their catapult action, it worked just like a Plutonian Cradle. Gave -us that extra boost we needed."</p> - -<p>"But what was their incentive?" inquired Doc. "What made them take your -orders?"</p> - -<p>Jon grinned broadly. "They ain't very smart. And life there is pretty -monotonous. It tickled them to have some one give them something to do. -Besides that, just before I passed the word to Booger, I commissioned -him Commander-in-Chief of Drake's Irregulars. Authority-crazy, that -Booger."</p> - -<pre style='margin-top:6em'> -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MADCAP METALLOIDS *** - -This file should be named 63843-h.htm or 63843-h.zip - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/4/63843/ - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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