Night of the Saucers

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Night of the Saucers Page 5

by Eando Binder


  “Not right away,” Thalkon returned. “First, we will have our technical labs analyze the Vibroscope so we can duplicate it, if need be.”

  “In case we fail,” Thane said.

  “Naturally, we have to take all precautions,” Thalkon said. “But it should only take a day to blueprint the Vibroscope for our files. You can start on the Seed hunt by tomorrow.”

  He turned to a large globe model of the Earth, on which a grid pattern of squares had been marked. “This is the geometric pattern of search used by the Vexxans, as we have figured out. In order to give you the best chance of finding a Seed, we can send you to areas not yet explored by them.”

  “Better give us a dozen or more such spots,” Thane said practically. “If the Seed’s rare, we may not hit pay dirt the first few times.”

  Thalkon was already writing down various locations. He handed the list to Thane. “Good hunting.”

  * * * *

  Thane turned to Miribel disgustedly. “Not a peep out of the Vibroscope. And this is the seventh spot from Thalkon’s list we’ve visited.”

  “Patience, my impatient Earth husband,” Miribel admonished. “The Seed mineral is so rare on Earth that the Vexxans have been hunting it down for twenty years, remember? With more years to go, no doubt.”

  “In fact,” broke in Thalkon’s telepathic voice from space, as if he had been eavesdropping, “you would be exceedingly lucky if you hit upon a Seed in a shorter time than a month. Therefore, I will send out a fleet of search ships by tomorrow when we have the duplicate Vibroscopes ready.”

  “One day to go,” muttered Thane. “We must find one first, Miribel.”

  “Why, Thane?”

  He stared at her, confused. “Why? Well… because I want to.” A faint grin tugged at his lips. “You know the egotism of us Earthmen. We like to grab all the glory we can.”

  “No, it isn’t that,” said Miribel, soberly. “What lurks in the back of your mind is that this is a plot against your world. And the sooner it’s exposed and stopped, the better.”

  “Thanks, my star sweetheart,” said Thane, sincerely.

  Yes, it was rankling within him all the time. The fear, the dread, the sense of sitting on a volcano.

  So Thane had felt all through his adventure against the Morlians, in appalling recognition that an alien race with super-technology had earmarked Earth for its prey. It was like some primitive tribe in the jungles knowing the civilized portion of the world was going to pounce on it.

  And with his insight into the vastly superior science utilized by any of the aliens visiting Earth in their miraculous flying craft, Thane had no illusions about the Vexxans being easy to beat. That was why a feverish impatience drove him to get on with the job as fast as possible.

  “On to the next area,” Thane said with set lips. “Where is it?”

  Miribel was consulting a map of the world. “Area number eight on our list is in Antarctica.”

  “At the South Pole?” Thane said, surprised. “But that’s solid ice down there.”

  “Not at McMurdo Oasis, Thane. It’s an area of several thousand square miles which for some reason is free of ice, winter or summer.”

  Thane swung the saucer around and headed south. A trip of some 10,000 miles lay ahead. He marveled that he had no need to “refuel” his craft. As far as he could make out, it ran on some sort of “free energy” that existed throughout the universe. It was not so weird in that certain Earth scientists had suspected such all-pervading energy existed all around, men such as Karl von Reichenbach with his “Odic Force”, Wilhelm Reich and his “Orgone,” not to mention Nicolai Tesla, Neeley, and a whole school of engineers typified by Jon Stelling who in 1928 had patented a simple rotor device running on free energy.

  The civilizations of other advanced worlds had long ago tapped this available “fuel” which was usually described as “electromagnetic” or “cosmodynamic” force. Whatever it was, it filled the coils of his saucer with colossal power, and Thane exuberantly pulled at the brass-ball control until they were scorching through the air at 50,000 miles an hour.

  “Say,” said Thane, baffled, turning to Miribel. “If orbital speed around earth is only 17,500 miles per hour and the escape velocity of 25,500 mph sends you off to the moon or Mars, by rigid physical laws, how can we go twice that speed without being flung into outer space?”

  “This saucer and all others,” Miribel informed, “is equipped with an inertialess null-gravity system. That means we are no longer subject to any of the laws of gravity. In other words, our ship is a vehicle independent of Earth and pursuing its own course through the space-time energy continuum, according to the well-known formula…”

  “Tell me more sometime,” Thane cut in dryly. “But right now my brain isn’t ready to be clobbered.” He was always sorry when he asked such questions of Miribel. They inevitably led to brain-beating concepts better left alone by an Earth mind steeped in the elementary ABC’s of mathematics and kindergarten physics.

  In less than fifteen minutes, the icy ramparts of the Antarctic continent hove into view. From a detailed navigational map, Miribel gave Thane the directions for cutting across the vast ice sheet to reach McMurdo Oasis, an incongruous patch of brown soil and rocks free of snow or ice. Here and there the fumes of hot spring geysers spouted.

  “Five thousand square miles to explore,” said Thane, gritting his teeth. “We’ll take up the usual circular spiral pattern, from the center outward. If it takes less than three days, we’ll be lucky. Your turn to sleep, Miribel.”

  While the girl slept, Thane hawked the blank Vibroscope screen and sent the saucer scudding low over the ground at a slow speed. The Vibroscope’s range was no more than a mile and its reaction time—to pick up a Seed’s radiations—was a laggard microsecond. Within those limitations, Thane was forced to crawl, at least in his conception.

  His eyes drooping in monotony, Thane suddenly came to life when the screen did. It showed a spangled pattern of squiggles, with cross hairs pinpointing the precise source of the triggering radiations it had picked up.

  “Miribel, wake up!” Thane yelled. “A seed… we’ve found it.”

  Tossing back her red hair and rubbing her indigo eyes, the girl sat up and studied the screen. “I’ll talk you down to it,” she said. “Swing around forty degrees and…”

  Finally, the saucer landed and they flew down the ramp. Thane stared in dismay at the heap of broken stone set in a field of sandy loam. “Now how long to search through that rubble?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s daytime here,” Miribel said, pointing at the sun near the horizon, “and the day is five months long at this latitude. The rainbow glow of the Seed might be seen under the rocks, if it were the dark of night.”

  Thane snapped his fingers and ran back to the saucer. Soon it hovered over the site, blocking off the sun and casting a long dark shadow over the rock pile. Thane locked the controls. Then he had to jump down twenty feet, jarred by the impact when he landed.

  “But now,” he grunted, “we might spot the Seed’s glow.”

  And it wasn’t long before Miribel cried out and pointed. Like a miniature rainbow, a fanned light sparkled amid the stones. In seconds, Thane had pantingly pawed down through the pile to expose the tiny mineral, which promptly blinded them with one of its periodic flashes of brilliance.

  Thane reached a hand but Miribel yanked it back violently. “Don’t touch it,” she warned. “You might get radiation burn.”

  “But the Vexxans held it in their bare hand,” protested Thane.

  “They’re immune to radiation burn,” Miribel said shortly, “just as they are to the paralysis ray.”

  She took a tweezers from her handbag and carefully picked up the tiny crystal, no bigger than a grain of wheat, and deposited it within a lead-lined box she also c
arried.

  Exultantly, Thane lifted his head, beaming an ESP call into space from the electro-wafer touching his brain. “Special Agent Thane Smith to Thalkon.” After his acknowledgement, Thane went on with clipped thought-words. “You can call off your dogs, Thalkon. Mr. and Mrs. Smith have found a Seed.”

  “You have the remarkable ability, Earthman,” said Thalkon with something of wonder in his mental voice, “of beating the Vigilantes to the goal, almost every time. Bring the Seed to me, immediately…”

  “No, Thalkon,” broke in Thane, his gaze riveted in the sky. “A domed saucer is approaching right now. By sheer bad luck, the Vexxan ship assigned to comb this area just arrived. We’ll have to evade them now. Thane out.”

  “Do your stuff, Miribel,” snapped Thane, holding her hand.

  Using her psychic powers, as she closed her eyes in concentration, and they were gently levitated twenty feet up to their saucer parked in midair. Hatch sealed, Thane shot their saucer away.

  As he expected, the Vexxan ship swung onto their trail. “They got within a mile,” he muttered. “Close enough for their Vibroscope to detect the Seed we have. They’ll chase us clear to hell now.”

  He shot their saucer low over the ice fields of Antarctica first.

  “No chance to blast off into space, where their radar could easily track us. Got to lose them somewhere on earth… somehow.”

  Chapter 8

  Thane found the answer later. After a zig-zagging flight over the ocean failed to shake the Vexxan’s pursuit, he suddenly dove straight down into the water. Once before, during the Morlian affair, he had been aboard a saucer that could dive from the air into the ocean with utter smoothness. Equally at home in space, air, or water, his saucer slid down into the sea without the slightest slackening of its supersonic speed.

  “The Vexxan saucer wasn’t fooled,” Miribel said. “Still right on our tail.”

  “Sure,” Thane nodded. “But wait till I…”

  Thane did not slacken speed as they neared the sea’s floor some five miles down.

  “Thane,” gasped Miribel. “We’re going to hit bottom…”

  “We already did,” he grinned. “See the mud outside the port window?”

  As Miribel stared uncomprehendingly, Thane went on. “You see, this particular area off the coast of Antarctica is composed of ooze a mile thick. Plenty of room for us to maneuver and lose the Vexxans. Radar won’t work well in thick mud—nor eyesight.”

  Minutes later, a hundred miles away, Thane shot their saucer up into the clear water, which rapidly washed the muddy ooze off its hull. The Vexxan ship was nowhere in sight, according to their own beta-radar screen.

  “Let them search five hundred square miles of ooze,” Thane chuckled.

  “You did it again, Thane,” said Miribel.

  “Listen, get that awed look off your face,” growled Thane. “A man doesn’t want a wife who worships him but loves him, see?”

  “All right, it was child’s play,” Miribel smiled. “In the order of genius,” she added stubbornly.

  Thane let it go at that, with a warm feeling inside. Then he concentrated on driving the saucer up out of the ocean depths until they spun into the air again.

  “Careful,” Miribel said. “By now, that Vexxan craft has signaled others that we have a Seed. They may be waiting to ambush us out in space if we try to deliver it to Thalkon. Even if we use the anti-visio unit and try to slip through unseen, their ultra-radars might still detect us.”

  Thane pondered their chances. “I think we’d better just quietly go home and wait for a better time. Down here, in Earthly traffic of aircraft, they haven’t much chance of singling us out, as they would have in space.”

  And so, with Thane deliberately flying low over cities and towns, they worked their way up through South America and thence to the U.S and toward home. When Miribel warned that the anti-visio unit was overheating, Thane switched it off. Let a flock of sighting reports come through. Nobody would believe them anyway.

  And come in they did, those reports. At their cabin, over the audio, Thane and Miribel listened in amusement to a newscaster who was equally amused.

  “The silly season is here again, folks. Phone calls began to pour into this station an hour ago, that a silvery flying saucer had been seen speeding low over this city. Several pilots were included, one of them still upset and stating the object had nearly collided with his plane…”

  “Sorry about that,” murmured Thane. “I did shave him a bit too close for comfort.”

  “… Also two state troopers report seeing the UFO clearly, going at a speed of no less than 2000 miles an hour.

  “… The explanation given by the Air Force was that it might have been a balloon…”

  “Balloons often go at supersonic speed,” said Thane.

  “… Prominent scientist who promptly said it was a meteor.”

  “No meteor,” said Thane, “has ever gone slower than sixty miles per second. That scientist has just invented slow meteors.” He shook his head.

  Thane now opened the small lead-lined box and placed it on the table, staring in wonder at the spectrum glow of the Seed within. “Why are the Vexxans collecting them? Where is the Collection Center they deliver them to? And what will they ultimately use them for? That sums up our mission, with a long ways to go.”

  He was too absorbed too notice the knock at the door. Miribel opened it “Daryl Seatonburry,” she said in surprise.

  The playboy bustled in, his arms loaded with packages. “Gifts for you two fine people,” he sang out. “I can’t forget how Thane manhandled those thugs and saved me from robbery.”

  Thane turned, half annoyed. “But I don’t expect any reward…”

  “Don’t be so stuffy, old fellow,” said Seatonburry cheerily. “Surely you can use some nice silk shirts… fancy ties… and for the lady gay scarves… fine gloves…”

  He was busily opening packages like a Santa Claus as he talked, holding up the items mentioned. Thane and Miribel glanced at each other in amusement. There was something childlike and pleasing in the playboy’s naive generosity.

  Finally he pulled a bottle out of the last package. “And a nice gift for me: Madeira wine, vintage 1903, best there is. No, don’t move, I’ll find the corkscrew myself in the kitchen.”

  On the way there, he passed, the table on which still lay the leaden box and its gleaming Seed. With an exclamation, Thane belatedly reached as if to close it but the rich young man snatched it up in astonishment.

  “What a jewel!” he exclaimed ecstatically. “The colors are magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like it. What kind is it?”

  “Why… uh… we don’t know,” said Thane truthfully. “We just happened to stumble on it…”

  “Fantastic,” gasped Seatonburry as the Seed gave its usual burst of sudden brilliance. “The most amazing gem ever known. It must be the only one of its kind.” He put down the bottle of wine and pulled a checkbook from his coat pocket.

  “I must have it for my own,” he said, half fiercely. “Name your own price and I’ll write out a check right now.”

  “But it really isn’t for sale,” said Thane, taken aback.

  “Nonsense,” spat the playboy. “Is $200,000 enough? $500,000?”

  Thane gasped. The playboy was dead serious, willing to spend a fortune to possess a new prized jewel. Thane shook his head. “You don’t understand, Mr. Seatonburry…”

  “Daryl, call me Daryl,” insisted the playboy. He turned to Miribel. “Your husband is foolishly stubborn. What good is a rare gem like this to you? To me, it’s a priceless adornment to go with my jewel collection. Tell him to accept my price, and I’ll make it one million dollars.”

  His hand was poised over the checkbook, ready to write.

  “I’
m sorry,” said Miribel, at a loss for words. She went on in lame inspiration. “But for personal reasons we won’t go into, we simply cannot part with the gem.” To add emphasis, Thane snapped the box shut. The playboy’s face fell, in utter disbelief. “You mean I can’t have that marvelous stone…?”

  He looked almost ready to break down and cry.

  At that moment, the door again opened, but this time violently. Miribel’s eyes flew open in consternation. “Vexxans!” she cried. Thane whirled in disbelief, but there they were, four of the hairy dwarf humanoids, all of them holding hand weapons. And at the windows, other Vexxan faces peered in grimly.

  “Yes, we have the place surrounded,” spoke one Vexxan aloud in perfect English. Their agents, too, had learned Earth languages. “We want that Seed.”

  Thane still held the closed box in his hand, as if paralyzed. He tensed as if about to spring into desperate action.

  “Don’t, Thane,” yelled Miribel. “They have blast-guns. You don’t have a chance.”

  Thane relaxed. Only an idiot would challenge those odds. The Vexxan leader strode forward, hand outstretched.

  Unexpectedly, Seatonburry lurched in front of him, his eyes wild. “I don’t know who or what you are,” he said hoarsely, “but you can’t steal that priceless gem. I want it…”

  “Who is this Earth fool?” said the Vexxan, raising his three-fingered hand to deal the playboy a vicious back-handed blow that sent him staggering back against the wall. Then he turned and took the leaden box from Thane, who made no move to resist. The Vexxan opened the box—and gasped.

  “Empty,” he hissed.

  “Yes, of course,” said Thane, easily. “What did you expect to find in it?”

  “A Seed!” bellowed the Vexxan.

  “Seed? What’s that?” asked Thane innocently.

  The Vexxan’s face purpled. “You know very well what I mean. And we know you had a Seed in your possession when you came to this cabin.”

 

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