Space Beagle- the Complete Adventures

by A. E. van Vogt

  Grosvenor swallowed hard, hesitated, and then said grimly, “If it’s the amount of risk we’re considering, why don’t we just crowd together here in the engine room and wait for him to develop a method of coming in after us?” He went on earnestly, “Please don’t think I’m trying to push my own ideas. But personally”—he hesitated, then took the plunge—“I consider the plan you outlined as worthless.”

  Morton looked genuinely startled. Then he frowned. “Isn’t that rather a sharp judgment?”

  Grosvenor said, “I understand the plan as described by you was not the one originally put forward, but a modified version of it. What was taken out?”

  “The two physicists,” said the Director, “recommended energizing four levels—seven, eight, nine, and ten.”

  For the third time Grosvenor hesitated. He had no desire to be over critical. At any moment, if he persisted, they would simply cease asking his opinion. He said finally, “That’s better.”

  From behind Morton, Captain Leeth interrupted. “Mr. Pennons, tell the group why it would be inadvisable to energize more than two floors.”

  The chief engineer stepped forward. He said with a frown, “The principal reason is that it would take an extra three hours, and we are all agreed that time is of the essence. If time were not a factor, it would be much better to energize the entire ship under a controlled system, walls as well as floors. That way, he couldn’t escape us. But it would require about fifty hours. As I stated previously, uncontrolled energization would be suicide. There’s another factor involved that we discussed purely as human beings. The reason the creature will seek us out will be that he wants more men, so that when he starts down, he’ll have one of us with him. We want that man, whoever he is, to have a chance for life.” His voice grew harsh. “During the three hours it will take us to put the modified plan into effect, we’ll be helpless against him except for high-powered mobile vibrators and heat projectors. We dare not use anything heavier inside the ship, and those will have to be used with care since they can kill human beings. Naturally, each man is expected to defend himself with his own vibrator.” He stepped back. “Let’s get going!”

  Captain Leeth said unhappily, “Not so fast. I want to hear more of Mr. Grosvenor’s objections.”

  Grosvenor said, “If we had time, it might be interesting to see how this creature reacts to such energized walls.”

  A man said irritably, “I don’t get the argument. Why, if this creature ever gets caught between two energized levels, that’s the end of him. We know he can’t get through.”

  “We don’t know anything of the kind,” Grosvenor said firmly. “All we know is that he got into a wall of force, and that he escaped. We assume he didn’t like it. In fact, it seems clear that he definitely could not remain in such an energy field for any length of time. It is our misfortune, however, that we cannot use a full force screen against him. The walls, as Mr. Pennons pointed out, would melt. My point is, he escaped from what we’ve got.”

  Captain Leeth looked disconcerted. “Gentlemen,” he said, “why was this point not brought out at the discussion? It is certainly a valid objection.”

  Morton said, “I was in favor of inviting Grosvenor to the discussion, but I was voted down on the basis of a long-standing custom, whereby the man whose plan is under consideration is not present. For the same reason, the two physicists were not invited.”

  Siedel cleared his throat. “I don’t think,” he said, “that Mr. Grosvenor realizes what he has just done to us. We have all been assured that the ship’s energy screen is one of man’s greatest scientific achievements. This has given me personally a sense of well-being and security. Now he tells us this being can penetrate it.”

  Grosvenor said, “I didn’t say the ship’s screen was vulnerable, Mr. Siedel. In fact, there is reason to believe the enemy could not and cannot get through it. The reason is that he waited beyond it till we brought him inside it. The floor energization, now being discussed, is a considerably weaker version.”

  “Still,” said the psychologist, “don’t you think the experts unconsciously assumed a similarity between the two forms? The rationale would be: If this energization is ineffective, then we are lost. Therefore, it must be effective.”

  Captain Leeth broke in wearily. “I’m afraid that Mr. Siedel has accurately analyzed our weakness.

  I recall now having such a thought.”

  From the center of the room, Smith said, “Perhaps we’d better hear Mr. Grosvenor’s alternative plan.”

  Captain Leeth glanced at Morton, who hesitated, then said, “He suggested that we divide ourselves into as many groups as there are atomic projectors aboard—”

  That was as far as he got. A physics technician said in a shocked voice, “Atomic energy—inside a ship!”

  The uproar that began lasted for more than a minute. When it died away, Morton went on as if there had been no interruption.

  “We have forty-one such projectors at the moment. If we accepted Mr. Grosvenor’s plan, each one would be manned by a nucleus of military personnel, with the rest of us spread out as bait within sight of one of the projectors. Those manning the projector would be under orders to activate it even if one or more of us is in the line of fire.”

  Morton shook his head slightly, and went on. “It is possibly the most effective suggestion that has been put forward. However, the ruthlessness of it shocked us all. The idea of firing at one’s own people, while not new, strikes much deeper than Mr. Grosvenor—I think—realizes. In fairness, though, I must add that there was one other factor that decided the scientists against it. Captain Leeth stipulated that those who acted as bait must be unarmed. To most of us, that was carrying the thing too far. Every man should be entitled to defend himself.” The Director shrugged. “Since there was an alternative plan, we voted for it.

  I am now personally in favor of Mr. Grosvenor’s idea, but I still object to Captain Leeth’s stipulation.”

  At the first mention of the commander’s suggestion Grosvenor had swung around and stared at the officer. Captain Leeth looked back steadily, almost grimly. After a moment, Grosvenor said aloud in a deliberate tone, “I think you ought to take the risk, Captain.”

  The commander acknowledged the words with a slight, formal bow. “Very well,” he said, “I withdraw my stipulation.”

  Grosvenor saw that Morton was puzzled by the brief interchange. The Director glanced at him, then at the captain, then back again to Grosvenor. Then a startled look flashed into his heavy-set face. He came down the narrow metal steps and over to Grosvenor. He said in a low tone, “To think that I never realized what he was getting at. He obviously believes that in a crisis . . .” He stopped, and turned to stare up at Captain Leeth.

  Grosvenor said placatingly, “I think he now realizes he made a mistake in bringing up the matter.”

  Morton nodded, and said reluctantly, “I suppose, when you come right down to it, he’s right. The impulse to survive, being basic, could supersede all subsequent conditionings. Still”—he frowned—“we’d better not mention it. I think the scientists would feel insulted, and there’s enough bad feeling aboard.”

  He turned and faced the group. “Gentlemen,” he said resonantly, “it seems clear that Mr. Grosvenor has made a case for his plan. All in favor of it, raise their hands.”

  To Grosvenor’s intense disappointment, only about half a hundred hands came up, Morton hesitated, then said, “All against, raise theirs.”

  This time just over a dozen hands were raised.

  Morton pointed at a man in the front line. “You didn’t put yours up either time. What seems to be the trouble?”

  The man shrugged. “I’m neutral. I don’t know whether I’m for it or against it. I don’t know enough.”

  “And you?” Morton indicated another individual.

  The man said, “What about secondary radiation?”

  Captain Leeth answered that. “We’ll block it off. We’ll seal the entire area.” H
e broke off. “Director,” he said, “I don’t understand why this delay. The vote was fifty-nine to fourteen in favor of the Grosvenor plan. While my jurisdiction over scientists is limited even during a crisis, I regard that as a decisive vote.”

  Morton seemed taken back. “But,” he protested, “nearly eight hundred men abstained.”

  Captain Leeth’s tone was formal. “That was their privilege. It is expected that grown men know their own minds. The whole idea of democracy is based on that supposition. Accordingly, I order that we act at once.”

  Morton hesitated, then said slowly, “Well, gentlemen, I am compelled to agree. I think we’d better get about our business. It’ll take time to set up the atomic projectors, so let’s start energizing levels seven and nine while we’re waiting. As I see it, we might as well combine the two plans, and abandon one or the other depending on the developing situation.”

  “Now that,” said a man, with evident relief, “makes sense.”

  The suggestion seemed to make sense to a lot of the men. Resentful faces relaxed. Somebody cheered, and presently the great human mass was flowing out of the huge chamber. Grosvenor turned to Morton.

  “That was a stroke of genius,” he said. “I was too set against such limited energization to have thought of such a compromise.”

  Morton acknowledged the compliment gravely. “I was holding it in reserve,” he said. “In dealing with human beings, I’ve noticed there is usually not only a problem to be solved but the matter of tension among those who have to solve it.” He shrugged. “During danger, hard work. During hard work, relaxation in every practicable form.”

  He held out his hand. “Well, good luck, young man. Hope you come through safely.”

  As they shook hands, Grosvenor said, “How long will it take to roll out the atomic cannon?”

  “About an hour, perhaps a little longer. Meanwhile, we’ll have the big vibrators to protect us . . .”

  The reappearance of the men brought Ixtl up to the seventh level with a rush. For many minutes, he was an abnormal shape that flitted through the wilderness of walls and floors. Twice he was seen, and projectors flashed at him. They were vibrators as different from the hand weapons he had faced so far as life from death. They shattered the walls through which he jumped to escape them. Once, the beam touched one of his feet. The hot shock from the molecular violence of the vibration made him stumble. The foot came back to normal in less than a second, but he had his picture of the limitations of his body against these powerful mobile units.

  And still he was not alarmed. Speed, cunning, careful timing and placing of any appearance he made—such precautions would offset the effectiveness of the new weapons. The important thing was: What were the men doing? Obviously when they had shut themselves up in the engine room, they had conceived a plan, and they were carrying it out with determination. With glittering, unwinking eyes, Ixtl watched the plan take form.

  In every corridor, men slaved over furnaces, squat things of dead-black metal. From a hole in the top of each furnace, a white glare spewed up, blazing forth furiously. Ixtl could see that the men were half blinded by the white dazzle of the fire. They wore space armor, but the ordinarily transparent glassite of which it was made was electrically darkened. Yet no light-metal armor could ward off the full effect of that glare. Out of the furnaces rolled long, dully glowing strips of material. As each strip emerged, it was snatched by machine tools, skillfully machined to exact measurements, and slapped on to the metal floors. Not an inch of floor, Ixtl noted, escaped being enclosed by the strips. And the moment the hot metal was down, massive refrigerators hugged close to it and drew its heat.

  His mind refused at first to accept the result of his observations. His brain persisted in searching for deeper purposes, for a cunning of vast and not easily discernible scope. Presently, he decided that this was all there was. The men were attempting to energize two floors under a system of controls. Later, when they realized that their limited trap was not effective, they would probably try other methods. Just when their defensive system would be dangerous to him, Ixtl wasn’t certain. The important thing was that as soon as he did regard it as dangerous, it would be a simple matter to follow the men about and tear loose their energization connections.

  Contemptuously, Ixtl dismissed the problem from his mind. The men were only playing into his hands, making it easier for him to get the guuls he still needed. He selected his next victim carefully. He had discovered in the man he had unintentionally killed that the stomach and intestinal tract were suitable for his purposes. Automatically, the men with the largest stomachs were on his list.

  He made his preliminary survey, and then launched himself. Before a single projector could be turned towards him, he was gone with the writhing, struggling body. It was simple to adjust his atomic structure the moment he was through a ceiling, and so break his fall to the floor beneath. Swiftly, he let himself dissolve through that floor also, and down to the level below. Into the vast hold of the ship, he half fell, half lowered himself. He could have gone faster, but he had to be careful not to damage the human body.

  The hold was familiar territory now to the sure-footed tread of his long-toed feet. He had explored the place briefly but thoroughly after he first boarded the ship. And, in handling von Grossen, he had learned the pattern he needed now. Unerringly, he headed across the dim-lit interior toward the far wall. Great packing cases were piled up to the ceiling. He went through them or around them, as it suited him, and presently found himself in a great pipe. The inside was big enough for him to stand up in. It was part of the miles-long system of air conditioning.

  His hiding place would have been dark by ordinary light. But to his infra-red-sensitive vision, a vague twilight glow suffused the pipe. He saw the body of von Grossen, and laid his new victim beside it. Carefully, then, he inserted one of his wiry hands into his own breast, removed a precious egg, and deposited it into the stomach of the human being.

  The man was still struggling, but Ixtl waited for what he knew must happen. Slowly, the body began to stiffen. The muscles grew progressively rigid. In panic, the man squirmed and jerked as he evidently recognized that paralysis was creeping over him. Remorselessly, Ixtl held him down until the chemical action was completed. In the end, the man lay motionless, every muscle rigid. His eyes were open and staring. There was sweat on his face.

  Within hours, the eggs would be hatching inside each man’s stomach. Swiftly, the tiny replicas of himself would eat themselves to full size. Satisfied, Ixtl started up out of the hold. He needed more hatching places for his eggs, more guuls.

  By the time he had put a third captive through the process, the men were working on the ninth level. Waves of heat rolled along the corridor. It was an inferno wind. Even the refrigeration unit in each space suit was hard put to it to handle the superheated air. Men sweated inside their suits. Sick from the heat, stunned by the glare, they labored almost by instinct.

  Beside Grosvenor, a man said suddenly, harshly, “Here they come now!”

  Grosvenor turned in the direction indicated, and stiffened in spite of himself. The machine that was rolling towards them under its own power was not big. It was a globular mass with an outer shell of wolfram carbide, and had a nozzle that protruded from the globe. The strictly functional structure was mounted on a universal bearing, which, in its turn, rested on a base of four rubber wheels.

  All around Grosvenor, men had ceased work. Their faces pale, they stared at the metal monstrosity. Abruptly, one of them came over to Grosvenor and said angrily, “Damn you, Grove, you’re responsible for this. If I’m due to get irradiated by one of those things, I’d like to punch you one in the nose first.”

  “I’ll be right here,” said Grosvenor in a steady voice. “If you get killed, so will I.”

  That seemed to take some of the anger out of the other. But there was still violence in his manner and tone, as he said, “What the hell of nonsense is this? Surely there must be better plans tha
n to make bait out of human beings.”

  Grosvenor said, “There is another thing we can do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Commit suicide!” said Grosvenor. And he meant it.

  The man glared at him, then turned away muttering something about stupid jokes and moronic jokesters. Grosvenor smiled mirthlessly and went back to work. Almost immediately, he saw that the men had lost their zest for the job. An electric tension leaped from one individual to another. The slightest untoward action on the part of one person brought the others tautly erect.

  They were bait. All over the various levels, men would be reacting to the death fear. No one could be immune, for the will to survive was built-in in the nervous system. Highly trained military men like Captain Leeth could put on an impassive front, but the tension would be there just under the surface. Similarly, people like Elliott Grosvenor could be grim but determined, convinced of the soundness of a course of action and prepared to take their chance.

  “Attention, all personnel!”

  Grosvenor jumped with the rest as that voice came out of the nearest communicator. It took a long moment before he recognized it as belonging to the commander of the ship.

  Captain Leeth continued. “All projectors are now in position to levels seven, eight, and nine. You will be glad to know that I have been discussing the dangers involved with my officers. We make the following recommendations: If you see the creature, don’t wait, don’t look around! Throw yourself instantly to the floor. All weapon crews—right now—adjust your nozzles to fire at 50: lZ. That gives you all a clearance of one and a half feet. This will not protect you from secondary radiation, but I think we can honestly say that if you hit the floor in time, Dr. Eggert and his staff in the engine room will save your life.

  “In conclusion”—Captain Leeth seemed more at ease, now that his main message had been delivered—“let me assure all ranks that there are no shirkers aboard. With the exception of the doctors and three invalid patients, every individual is in as great danger as you. My officers and I are divided among the various groups. Director Morton is down on the seventh level. Mr. Grosvenor—whose plan this is—is on level nine, and so on. Good luck, gentlemen!”