Bronsome Beta - After Worlds Collide Part 19

"Right."

James tapped on his desk with the pencil he had been using.

"How much chance," he asked, "have we of setting up a power-station of our own-a station big enough to heat a couple of buildings, and light them, all winter?"

Duquesne shrugged. "What do we use for fuel?"

"Not coal-we've seen none. Or oil. How about wood? Those forests?"

"And how do we get wood here?"

'Trucks."

"And if our enemies are trying to freeze us into submission, would they let us save ourselves by running trucks day and night to distant forests for fuel? No. They would blow up the roads and bomb the trucks. It would take much wood to keep us warm. We could not run any sort of blockade-or cut wood under fire from an enemy. No."

"The river, then?"

Duquesne spread his hands. "You have imagination, my boy. But already it is too cold. And to build a dam and a hydro-electric plant takes months. I have thought of those things."

"In other words," s.h.i.+rley said slowly, "if you are right about the Midianites being in possession of the power-plant, we'll have to take it way from them-or beat them somehow. Or else-"

James grinned bitterly. "Why not just leave it at, 'or else'?"

The Frenchman rose. "That is told in confidence. I may be mistaken in my conjectures. I shall now search for Tony further. He will in any case appear for luncheon." He left them, and they heard the nervous click of his heels as his short legs carried his large body down the hall.

"Not so good," said s.h.i.+rley Cotton.

James went to the window. Down on the street below, people moved hither and thither. A few of the Bronson Beta automobiles shot back and forth on their roadways, and wound the spiral ramps of buildings. Overhead in the green sky the sun shone, brightening the city, touching with splendor its many-colored facets.

Then a mighty bell sent a rolling reverberation over the district. James turned from the window. "Lunch," he said.

He went with the girl to the dining-room. The five-hundred-odd inhabitants of Hendron were gathering. They came together on the street outside the dining-hall in twos and threes, and moved through the wide doorway to their appointed places. They talked and laughed and joked with each other, and on the faces only of a minority was an expression of unalterable apprehension. The rest were at least calm.

In ten minutes the hall was a bedlam of voices and clatterings, and the women on duty as waitresses hurried from the kitchens with huge trays.

Higgins invaded this peaceful and commonplace scene in great excitement. Instead of taking his place, he went to Tony -who was engaged in earnest private conversation with Duquesne-and spoke for a moment. Tony stood, then, and struck a note on a gong. Immediate silence was the response to the sound.

"Doctor Higgins," said Tony, "has made a discovery."

Higgins stood. This ritual had been followed in the announcement of hundreds of discoveries relative to Bronson Beta, and the life, arts and sciences of its original inhabitants.

"It concerns the greenness of the sky," Higgins said. "We have all remarked upon it. We have agreed that normal light polarization would always produce blue. We have agreed that any gases which would cause a green tint in atmosphere- halogens, for example-would also be poisonous.

"This morning at seven-eighty, Bronson Beta time, we had a green rain of nine and a half Bronson Beta minutes' duration. I collected the precipitated substance. It proved to be the explanation of our atmospheric color." He took a vial from his pocket and held it up. Its contents were green. "The color is caused by this. A new form of life-a type of plant unknown on earth. You are all familiar with the algae in the sea-minute plants which floated in the oceans of earth in such numbers as to change the color in many places. Very well. The higher atmosphere of Bronson Beta is crowded by plants in some ways similar. These plants are in effect tiny balloons. They germinate on the surface of the earth apparently, in the spring. As they grow (the ground everywhere must be covered by them), they manufacture within themselves hydrogen gas. They swell with it until, like small balloons, they rise. Their hydrogen holds them suspended high in the atmosphere during the summer and fall-trillions upon countless trillions of them. They make a level of thin, greenish fog overhead. Examined microscopically, they reveal their secret at once.

"There is sufficient carbon dioxide and moisture to nourish them. They live by simple photosynthesis; and it is the chlorophyll they contain which makes them green-a characteristic of all terrestrial plants except the parasites. These plants reproduce from spores."

Higgins sat down.

His brief description was greeted by applause in which the botanists and biologists were most vehement.

Carter stood up. "About their precipitation, Higgins?"

Again Higgins took the floor. "I have only a theory to offer. Temperature. I believe that, although they are resistant to cold, an adequate drop in temperature will cause them to crack and lose their hydrogen. Then, naturally, they fall to earth."

"So you antic.i.p.ate more green rain?"

"I do-a tremendous volume of it. And I may add that these plants fix nitrogen, so that their dead bodies, so to speak, will const.i.tute a fine fertilizer, laid annually upon the soil of the entire planet."

Carter nodded. "Excellent, Higgins! Have you made calculations relative to the possible and probable depth of 'green rain* we may expect?"

"Only the roughest sort. I shall work on that at once, of course."

Again there was applause. Other questions were asked. The bottle began to pa.s.s from hand to hand. The meal was resumed. It did not continue long without interruption, however. While the five hundred people saved by Hendron dined in the city named for him, they were guarded by a perpetual watch. Not since the first glimpse of a strange plane flying over the original camp, had vigilance been relaxed. In Hendron, day and night, men and women stood guard-at the gates, in the top of the tallest building, and underground in the central chambers.

During that noonday meal the guards on the north gate saw one of the Midianite planes moving toward the city.

It was not uncommon for an enemy plane to pa.s.s across their range of vision. This plane, however, was evidently headed for the city of Hendron. When that fact became a.s.sured, the alarm was sounded.

In the dining-hall there was an orderly stampede.

A swift car from the north gate brought news of the danger.

Arms were taken from racks, and at vantage-points near the gates, men and women-some still carrying hastily s.n.a.t.c.hed bits of food-took their posts.

The plane, meanwhile, had reached the dome of the city. It did not fly over, however. It did not drop bombs, or a message. Instead, it circled twice to lose alt.i.tude, and from a hatch in its fuselage a white flag was run up on a miniature mast.

Then it landed.

By the time it touched the ground, more than two hundred persons were on hand to see. The transparent cover of their city gave them a feeling of security. However, the flag of truce upon the plane did not encourage them to any careless maneuver.

The s.h.i.+p was expertly brought down to the ground, but afterward it behaved badly. It slewed and skidded. Its engine died and then picked up as it started to taxi toward the gate. It did not cover the intervening stretch of ground. Instead, it lurched crazily, hit a rock, smashed a wheel, dragged a wing -and its motor was cut. Then, half wrecked, it stopped.

There it stood, like a bird shot down, for five full minutes. No one moved inside it. No one made an effort to descend.

By that time every one in the city had rushed to its edge.

Tony gathered his lieutenants and advisers together.

"Ruse to get the gate open," Williams said.

"I think so," Tony agreed.

They waited.

Dodson, standing near Tony, murmured: "The Trojan-horse gag."

Tony nodded....

Ten minutes.

"Let me go out there," Jack Taylor said finally. "Just open one gate a crack. They can't get a wedge in at that distance. It's some sort of b.o.o.by trap-but I'll spring it."

Tony said no. They sat.

A thought moved through the mind of Eliot James. He went to Tony. "It might be Von Beitz. He might be hurt-"

Tony lifted a pair of powerful gla.s.ses to his eye. He saw several areas of holes on the plane's side. Machine-gun bullet-holes.

"Open the gate a crack-and lock it behind me," he commanded. He stalked to the portal. It yawned for an instant. He went out. Jack Taylor, winking at the men who manipulated the gate, followed close behind Tony.

Tony turned after the gate clanged, and saw Jack. He grinned. The people inside the city who watched, were deeply moved. Tony's decision to accept the danger-Jack's pursuit of his leader into peril-those were the things of which the saga of Hendron's hundreds were made.

They went cautiously toward the broken s.h.i.+p. No sound came from it. They were ready to throw themselves to the earth at the first stirring.

There was none.

The crowd watching held its breath. The two men were under the shattered wing.... Now they were climbing the fuselage.

Tony looked cautiously through a window.

Inside the plane, alone, on its floor, in a pool of blood, lay Von Beitz.

Tony yanked the door open. Taylor followed him inside.

Von Beitz was badly wounded, but still breathing. They lifted him a little. He opened his eyes. A stern smile came upon his Teutonic face.

"Good!" he mumbled. "I escaped. They have the power city. They plan to cut you off as soon as it is cold enough to freeze you to terms. I do not know where the power city is-it is not like the other cities."

He closed his eyes.

"Did they kidnap you here?" Tony asked.

He thought that Von Beitz nodded an affirmative.

From the outside came a yell of warning from many throats. Tony looked. The gate was open. People were pointing. In the north was a fleet of enemy planes winging toward the spot.

"Hurry!" Tony said to Taylor. "Take his feet. Gently- and fast! They're going to try to bomb us before we get Von Beitz' information back to the others!"

As he spoke, he and Taylor were carrying the inert man to the door of the shattered s.h.i.+p.

CHAPTER XVI.

HISTORY.

The watchers at the gate of the city ceased to be mere spectators, and poured out. Many were useless; they merely endangered themselves to no purpose. Eliot James, who had the local command, shouted for all but one other, besides himself, to keep under the s.h.i.+eld of the city; and he and that other ran forward as Tony and Jack Taylor emerged from the half-wrecked plane and pulled out the limp form of Von Beitz.

The two uninjured men, bearing Von Beitz, began to run across the open s.p.a.ce between the city and the s.h.i.+p; and Eliot with his companion, Waterman, ran toward them.

From the north the swarm of pursuing planes approached -the planes of the Other People, of the Vanished People of this planet, which had been appropriated by the "Midianites."

At least, that was what Eliot believed as he glanced up and saw the great metal larks in the sky. It must be men from the earth who piloted them; yet deep in his thoughts clung the fantastic idea that it might be Bronson Betan hands which piloted these splendid planes, even as Bronson Betan hands and brains had built them a million years ago before the Other People began their frightful drift into the cold and darkness of s.p.a.ce between the stars.

Bullets, or some sort of projectiles, splashed up dirt before him and left Eliot no illusions as to the att.i.tude of these pilots, whoever they might be. But he was unhurt; his comrade also was unhurt, and neither Tony nor Jack Taylor stumbled.

The attack from the air ceased; the planes veered away and dispersed so suddenly that it seemed to Eliot that they must have been signaled.

Waterman and he reached Tony and Taylor, and the four bore Von Beitz within the gate, which swiftly was shut behind them.

Women, as well as men, surrounded them. Tony turned at Eve's touch, and he stared at her dazedly.

"Tony," she implored him, "are you hurt too? Did they hit you?"

He shook his head; he was panting so violently that any expression of his feelings, as she held to him, was impossible. For a brief moment he caught her hand and held it, but gasped only: "Get Dodson-for-Von Beitz."

The command was unnecessary. Dodson was already kneeling over the German.

Eliot pressed back the people who crowded too close. The surgeon opened his kit, which had never been far from his hand during the perilous months on this planet. He began to administer drugs. "Half starved," he muttered. "No bones broken. Exhaustion. In terrible fight. Fists. Knife-at least some one had one in the fight. Wait!"

The German opened his eyes and sat up. "Danke sch"n," he said.

"Not yet!" Dodson warned, pus.h.i.+ng his patient back into a reclining position.

'Take your time," Tony begged him, though he himself jerked with impatience for Von Beitz' report. He gazed up through the s.h.i.+eld over the city into the sky, for the airplanes which had pursued, and which so suddenly had abandoned attack.

"Where are they?" he said to Eliot James.

"Gone."

"What scared them off?"

"What happened to their other planes before, I guess," said Eliot.

"Would they all have remembered it together just at the same second?" Tony asked.

Eliot shook his head; the planes were gone, whatever had turned them back; thought of them could engage neither Eliot nor Tony-nor Eve, since they had spared Tony.

She clung close to him in tender concern. They were in the inner edge of the circle, watching the German, who lay now with eyes shut and a scowl on his face.

The spasm of pain appeared to pa.s.s; he opened his eyes, and looking up at Tony, he winked.

It was the most rea.s.suring thing he could have done. "Good stuff!" Tony whispered to Eve.