Collected Tales (Jerry eBooks)

by Leslie F Stone

  Mars struck first. A Plutonian moon was bombarded suddenly by projectiles, great steel clad shells several hundred feet long. Three of these proved sufficient to explode the body into thousands of fragments, spewing its fellows and Pluto with a shower of dust and ashes lasting for days.

  Pluto lost no time in answering, and like Mars’ first shot, her initial use of the knife-ray proved successful, cutting a long gash in Mars’ side, three hundred miles long, and thirty wide.

  There followed days in which neither planet scored a hit, for spacial warfare, as I have explained before, differs greatly from planetary warfare.

  THEN, after days of futility, Mars got her range again, and three more of Pluto’s moons exploded simultaneously, while the planet went unscathed. And again Pluto cut a wide swath in Mars’ side. And she made use of the atmosphere-dispenser. The process, however, of eliminating Mars’ air-blanket was a slow one, and months would pass before its effect would be felt, possibly longer, since Mars was a larger world than Luna.

  But not to be outdone Mars likewise made use of her heat-ray. Not immediately did Pluto realize what was happening to her, not knowing that it was the work of Mars when mountains never before known to eject volcanic debris commenced to spout forth streams of molten rock. No one can describe the terror of those fired mountains, of the rivers that became raging, boiling death, of outraged nature. And, to add to the awfulness were the projectiles of Mars, now biting great craters out of Pluto’s sides.

  Cities collapsed by the hundreds, roofs fell in, and so hot grew the ground underfoot, that the people knew not where to turn. For the nonce Mars was forgotten, but when it was realized, at last, that Mars was wholly responsible for Pluto’s abject condition, the crews turned back to their weapons. Again and again they gashed Mars cruelly.

  And then came respite. Mars and Pluto were drifting apart on their voyage around the sun. Soon the range became too great for either planet to make a hit. Several years must pass ere the two planets come in conjunction with each other. For a while the battle was removed to Space itself, fleets from each planet attacking each other. But they were too well matched to play at that game long, neither side gaining or losing.

  Thereupon began an era of comparative peace, in which both worlds entrenched themselves, preparing for still greater measures of warfare against the time when they should next meet.

  Then on Pluto came forth one of her great scientists with a plan. He proposed that Pluto should not await the return of Mars to hostilities. Instead, he wanted Pluto to track Mars down!

  Had the people been in their right senses, they would have laughed down such a proposal, but maddened as they were by their losses, by their hatred of Mars, they were ready to seize upon any new idea, no matter how fantastic, if it would answer their ends. Those who sought to point out the folly of such a plot were laughed at, even killed for their unpatriotism.

  The plan? Nothing less than swinging Pluto out of its orbit, transposing the whole planet into a movable body, capable of traveling through space as a free agent!

  To accomplish this, meant turning Pluto into the equivalent of a ship of space, entailing the placement of great mechanisms that would fire rockets. By placing these rocket pits in two great circlets around the planet it was expected that the world would respond as easily as any rocket-flyer. And there followed frantic activity while this was being accomplished.

  True, ere this was completed Mars and Pluto would meet again in space, but the people thought not of that; they were intent upon their self-imposed task, establishing the rocket pits, manufacturing the fuel, developing new lethal weapons with which to attack Mars when they descended upon her.

  And the great day came when in the rocket-pits, lined with concrete against the inner heat of the planet, men awaited the signal for the first discharge that would throw Pluto out of her orbit.

  At first nothing was felt, the planet apparently adamantine to persuasion. Then—then came a scarcely perceptible rocking. This lasted for some time. Yet nothing seemed to change, the planets round about seemed in their usual places, all serenely unaware of what was about to transpire.

  And then came the jar—such a rocking and groaning. The world seemed to spin like a top, the planets beyond cavorting wildly in the heavens. People cried out in their fright, tore their hair and their clothes in sorrow, for they thought the end was upon them.

  Better that it had. But now the rocking was ceasing, the groaning of the world fading away, the sun and planets settling into their places. Not entirely, however. The sun seemed restless, moving this way and that in the sky, Jupiter was trying to turn a somersault and Pluto’s moons acted queerly, unable to make up their minds whether to follow or not.

  IT was done. Pluto had departed out of her orbit!

  Words fail to describe the series of events that followed, on Pluto’s descent upon Mars, rocking, rolling, an unsteady ship at best, her moons dragging behind jerkily, uncertainly held by Pluto’s gravitational forces.

  Soon Mars was looming up ahead, large and swollen. Stupefied she could not act or think, and a dozen gashes appeared in her sides before she recovered the shock of surprise. Then, she too began an offensive. Ah, Pluto, you had forgotten that two can play at the same game. What difference if you be near or far? Now comes your punishment in full.

  But wait. What happens to the system, to the sun, to the planets? Why does Jupiter jump so erratically? What has happened to little Vulcan? Has Venus, the cloud-wrapped one gone mad? Does Luna intend to fall upon earth? And the sun! Why does he shoot those giant streamers into the void? Is the whole system to fall in upon itself?

  God of our fathers! Look! Pluto falls toward Mars. Engineers to your posts. Shoot wide your rockets. Can you save us?

  The delicate balance of the system had been disturbed by Pluto’s unnatural action, planets teetered in their orbits, the sun reached out long arms, as if to encompass all, and in turn all the planets were pulling at Pluto, each seeking to grasp her about the middle, shake her, disintegrate her. Man felt the Titanic battle as blood rushed to his head, sweat poured from his body.

  Pluto’s one thought now was to return to her orbit, to undo the awful thing she had done, realizing that it is not meant for a planet to free itself. Somehow she managed to pull out of Mars’ grip, to limp slowly, painfully back toward the place she had occupied during the millenniums. But for Mars’ wrath she might have accomplished it.

  But Mars would not have it so. Unaware of what was happening to the system, her atmosphere draining away from her, her only thought was retaliation for all she had suffered at Pluto’s hands. With thousands of tons of explosives she sought to retard Pluto’s progress, delaying the return just long enough to make the return impossible. And when, at last, Pluto managed to limp painfully into port, a third of her bulk gone, ripped out of her, she found two of Jupiter’s moons directly in her path.

  They had been dragged away from Jupiter’s stewardship, and now were undisciplined runaways. Braking her progress as best she could Pluto sought to change her course, to avoid the twins that came upon her like avenging angels, intent upon finishing that which Mars had not completed, while, all the time, Mars pelted her with explosives.

  Was there ever such a predicament?

  At last Pluto bethought herself of her knife-ray. That alone could save her from head-on collision with Jupiter’s moons. The rays were brought into play. They crossed and criss-crossed upon the two moons, slashing them into fragments; then with their rocket discharges the Plutonians shoved them out of the way.

  But now their own moons were bearing down upon them. A terrific rocking throughout the world told that one moon had side-swiped Pluto, carrying away one entire continent before the rays could drive it away. Never was there such a holocaust. The havoc was unnameable.

  PLUTO’S one thought was to get away. Her own orbit, filled with fragments of her moons and Jupiter’s, was untenantable and she must seek another. The way to the sun was cut off by Mars,
and even were it not, she could not dare the power exerted by the sun, now in wilder rampage than ever. Every planet felt it. Mercury had dropped a dozen million miles nearer, Vulcan was gone into the seething caldron, Venus weaved in her orbit, and earth’s moon, Luna, had moved closer.

  The only way left for Pluto was outward, beyond Jupiter, beyond Saturn, both of which strained to grasp her. That alone saved the planet. Playing upon these delicate forces, the engineers at Pluto’s helm maneuvered somehow to ride the path lying between. Of Uranus she had naught to fear, for that world was entering its apogee, on the far side of the sun, and only Neptune lay in the path.

  But wait! what is worse? Annihilation by her sister worlds, or annihilation by the outer cold of space? See how the sun is retreating? See how wan and dim have grown its rays. Gods—save us—ere we die!

  None seemed willing to help Pluto, her own momentum was bearing her outward, outward beyond the system, deeper and deeper into the void, away from the life-giving sun, away into the black reaches stretching trillions of miles to the nearest star.

  And to make matters worse the rocket fuel was growing ever lower; they could not halt!

  It was Neptune who, at last, took pity. Reaching out a long arm it steadied the battle-torn planet. By husbanding the remaining fuel cautiously, Pluto managed, with Neptune’s help, to effect a landing in an orbit millions of miles beyond, hoping against hope that the new place would hold.

  Yet even if the new orbit proved a haven, what of the peoples, the few remnants of that once mighty race? Could they survive? Their roofed cities were laid low, every natural resource of the world had been tossed into the battle’s maw. And as soon as the superimposed heat of Mars’ ray dwindled away, the planet would be caught in the iron-bound hand of cold. Already people were dying upon the surface from the freezing temperatures.

  Those who had the energy dug themselves into the surface, seeking to preserve themselves by burning everything burnable, but they died as flies, the will-to-live all but gone. Their leaders were no better. It was no uncommon thing to see people lie down in their tracks, awaiting the death that already had them at the heart.

  Born at the outset of the Great War, the three of us, offspring of the race of astronomers, Dahya, my loved one and Tan Bora, my friend, had been eyewitnesses to all that had befallen our world. And, because we knew death was upon us, we refused to desert the astronomical tower, the last of its kind left on Pluto. There was yet a store of chemically prepared food in the chests, we had furs and a small store of fuel.

  None approached our home, uncaring what became of us. Day by day we sat by the great telescope, gazing apathetically into the giant reflector at the worlds that had disowned us. We noted the changes that had overtaken the system, mapped out the differences.

  Mars lay dead, its atmosphere reduced to a pitiful remnant, her cities leveled to the ground, her sides unmercifully slashed by our rays. Luna was a gutted empty shell. Only earth remained in all her full glory. Earth, the forbidden land warmed by the beautiful sun, its night lighted by dead Luna.

  WE had but one consolation. We knew that man with all his many faults, his false ambitions and desires, was not, after all, dead. On earth alone were these survivors of our three great races, those Lunarites who had escaped northward, little yellow people even now seeking to find the way back to their once proud estate; black Martians who had scattered over dozens of islands when their land, Lemuria, exploded under their feet; white Plutonians, who in flimsy boats had reached either shore of the great ocean, wherein Atlantis had once stood, where only a few mountain peaks remained to point out its grave.

  For long hours we conjectured upon the future of these peoples, now, perforce, returned to barbarism, cut off from their kind, their science forgotten in their effort to save themselves. Would they learn again to build great cities? Would they again conquer Space? Would they again war upon each other?

  Dahya liked to dream that their future would be fairer, that dwelling upon such a hospitable world, they would imbue something of its peace in their hearts. Tan Bora was more pessimistic. He could claim for them only death and destruction. I preferred the middle road, and concluded that peace and strife would ever go hand in hand.

  Dahya and Tan Bora have gone. Dahya faded away like a cut flower, although I kept her wrapped in many furs. Tan Bora died, because the will to live had deserted him, as it had deserted all the cold-ridden race. I alone have lived on, for my great work, this work that is now completed, awaiting those whom I know will come after, seeking the answer to the enigma that is Life.

  How benefiting that it should be here, on the last world.

  Yea, let him read and be warned—if it be in him!

  THE END

  [1] There has been much controversy regarding the theory of the Planetoids, and at first it was believed that they might be simply fragments of an original large planet which had been torn to pieces by an explosion. If such were the case, the different parts in their orbits around the sun would all pass through the position occupied by the planet at the time of the explosion; therefore, search for new planetoids was confined to the regions wherein the orbits of Ceres and Pallas intersect, but this was abandoned when the orbits of Eros and two others were found interior to the orbit of Mars.

  [2] The term fardo is obscure, and may be ascribed to either century or some like delineation. Also Valda proved untranslatable, although a more lengthy study than Cart was able to give may reveal the true meanings. Cart suggests Valda comparable to anno Domini, describing some past historic event whereby the Plutonians calculated their calendar.

  [3] To facilitate the reading of the following account Garo Mofa’s name terms for the planets are disregarded, but for the curious I hereby name them as in the manuscript:

  Duand—Vulcan Camub—Luna Sousl—Uranus

  Gebel—Mercury Falva—Mars Kulur—Neptune

  Fawso—Venus Megel—Jupiter Tufka—Pluto

  Ruika—Earth Xuria—Saturn

  [4] The term ganul denotes “year.” The Present Plutonian year is actually several hundred of our own years, but since this account deals with that period when Pluto occupied fifth place in the solar-system we conjecture that its year was then close to five of our years in duration. Thus, we will suppose that Garo Mofa took fifty years to complete his glossary and history.

  [5] The Plutonian symbol gno is replaced here with mile, although unquestionably the measure of length differed somewhat.

  [6] Lima was not so close to earth in those days, the fall was to come later.

  Cosmic Joke

  l After an absence of several years, you will be glad to see that Leslie F. Stone is again appearing in our pages. This author has been quite a favorite in the past.

  All we really know about the pituitary gland—situated in the brain—is that it controls the growth of the body. A few stories have already appeared concerning this peculiar gland about which so little is known, but nothing like the present story has ever appeared in science-fiction before.

  In other words, we have here a story that really shows itself a good example of the new type of story that our policy calls for—new theories, refreshing plot, different development—an entirely original tale. You are sure to like it.

  l No one connected the strange disease of world giantism and the unprecedented fall of meteors into the sun as cause and effect, not for many months after; and it was for young Jenson Ferril, a boy just out of the university, to point out the fact that both events had come together; even as the sun, following its big meal of meteors, had suddenly, overnight as it seemed, shot up the scale of brilliancy until it was impossible to look upon it without smoked glasses. Not that Sol generated more heat—rather it was found that the warmth of the sun had lessened several degrees, so that during the summer the thermometers registered correspondingly lower than they had the previous summer.

  The first hint of the unusual meteoric fall had come in early June. Earth lay out of the path; in fact, it was
on the opposite side of the sun. Only by accident, on the night of June 11th, did an astronomer discover them as he studied the great star clouds in Sagittarius which he found oddly obscured by dark, moving blotches.

  The very fact that he was able to discern the movement in the oncoming dots of blackness showed them to be quite close—already in the neighborhood of Jupiter, just then traversing the sky at that point. For several nights he watched the formation, learning that it was made up of hundreds of meteors, headed directly for the sun. When he made the announcement of his discovery, they were easily discernible, moving upon Sol in a dense mass.

  Observers computed that the largest was the size of a small moon, about a thousand miles in diameter, while the smallest appeared as particles of dust. They could be seen cutting a wide, dark path in the sky, blotting out the stars behind from far beyond the outermost confines of the solar system. Their rate of acceleration was estimated to be three hundred miles per second, but from whence they originated could not be determined, except that they came from the apparent position of Sagittarius.

  From Earth’s station across the void, the sun’s reception of this Gargantuan meal could not be observed—and it was more than a month following their discovery that the added brilliancy of the sun began to show itself.

  Yearly, hundreds of meteors are known to fall into the sun, as they fall upon all its planets, but never before had such a phenomenal descent been noted, and astronomers fought pro and con concerning the possibilities of what this giant dinner would have upon our system. Yet, as already stated, no appreciable change in the amount of radiation from the sun was observed. No one in his wildest imagination could have guessed the real effect that mass of meteors was to have upon the life of our planet.

  It was in early September that a change did commence to take place among Earth’s billions. Later it was found that not only man had been so affected, but likewise, all the animal world, mammalia, reptile, marine, bird-life, insects. . . .