Doomsday Planet

by Harl Vincent

  So Donley rounded up the Lunarian and the Martian, noting during his search that construction of the new city along the shore was again in full blast and had proceeded famously already. Apdar’s workmen were real craftsmen and fast. Later, of course, many of Daila’s workers would be here to join them.

  The trip down and through the tunnel was uneventful. Donley saw that the rest of the seats in the car were occupied by some of Apdar’s people…

  “The first for exchange,” Daila explained when he remarked upon this. “You see, Apdar and I agreed on an exchange of easterners and westerners in equal numbers, then rotating at the halfway mark. This will be of educational value to all and give each side a clearer understanding of the other, besides giving all the chance to spend some time on the surface. You undoubtedly saw on your way down back there that the living quarters had scarcely been damaged, although in some of the lower levels there was some destruction, mainly in the tilting and buckling of walls and floors here and there. Very forunate. Also that the utilities are functioning perfectly, apparently unharmed. But the thing is that there are accommodations back there for only fifty-two hundred people, as far as sleeping, eating, ablutions and recreational facilities are concerned. And there are four thousand of my people, plus about five thousand of Apdar’s, so they can not possibly reside in either place all at one time. It was for this reason we made the exchange agreement. And when the new tunnel cars are ready we can speed this up, since not only are they faster but each will hold fifty passengers. Of course, as soon as the new city is habitable all of us will live there—until population increase or the spirit of adventure, or newcomers from the other planets inspire exploration and the establishing of other dwelling places.”

  “You two sure did some planning,” said Donley. “No wonder you were talking back and forth so much those two days.”

  Daila blushed charmingly, at sight of which Mera hugged her and said, “So-o. Maybe you and Apdar—just might—”

  The girls indulged in some animated whispering then and Donley tossed a pleased grin back at Lantag and the Martian. Who knew what might happen? An aftermath of the cosmic pulse, was it all?

  Finally the car came to rest a new gravity lift shaft and they were dropped speedily down this to the inner world occupied for so many generations by the western territorials. Excepting for the guards, the corridors were deserted. It was sleeping time here. A guard approached after the girls had entered Daila’s chambers and told Donley that the escaped prisoners were last seen along one of the balconies several levels below.

  “Let’s go,” Donley said.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Reaching the level indicated, they heard a shot and Captain Stark reeled from a branching corridor almost into Donley’s arms. Two more of Daila’s guards had joined the first one on the way down, and the three spread out with Lantag and Jal Tarjen to search the passages. Stark warned that the thugs were close by and then he collapsed. A door nearby opened and two citizens, a man and wife, peered out to see what the commotion might be. Donley asked them to put the captain in one of their beds until he could get medical help. They readily agreed, having heard all of the proceedings at the new seaside, and Donley was free again to join the chase. Regaining consciousness briefly before Donley left, Stark gave him the apartment number of their hideout.

  “It’s right around the comer,” he husked, “and you should find them not too far away.” Then he slipped again into dreamland.

  The Martian was just rounding the comer into the corridor, moving cautiously, his eyes darting here and there in search of the hoodlums.

  “No sight of them yet?” Donley asked.

  “Not yet. Lantag and guards scour all passages.”

  Just then it happened. The two escapees hove into view and, seeing Donley and the Martian, one fired a shot that went wild and both turned to flee. Donley and Jal Tarjen sped after them.

  Donley launched himself in a flying tackle that brought one of the fugitives crashing to the metal floor. Meanwhile, the Martian had caught the other and was using a trick reminiscent of karate, tossing the man over his shoulder to smash into unconsciousness.

  At this point the three guards converged upon them and shackled their captives.

  “Where’s the wounded one?” asked the first guard.

  Donley made reply, coupled with swift instructions.

  “I’ll get help for him and bring him to the tunnel car. Meanwhile, you two get the steel box from their hideout and bring it along with them to join us.” He selected two of the guards as he spoke. “And you,” he told the other, “stay with us while we take care of the wounded one; then you’ll be free to return to your post.”

  They found that the helpful citizens had already had in a doctor and that Stark’s wound had been cleansed, the bullet extracted, and all bandaged up in approved manner.

  “You may take him with you,” the doctor told them. “He’s had a hypo that will keep him under for a few hours and then you’ll need another doctor to look at him. He’ll recover with proper care.”

  Instinctively, Donley knew it would be an insult to offer compensation, so he simply thanked the couple and the doctor. Captain Stark was picked up easily by Lantag and Jal Tarjen, who carried him away with extreme care toward the new exit.

  “I’ll join you at the car,” Donley told them, “in nothing flat. Have to tell Daila what went on and bring her and Mera along.”

  He sped to the upper level where Daila’s quarters were located.

  The two women were in a state of mild excitement when he reached them. Daila had eavesdropped telepathically. She knew what had ben done, all of it, so congratulated him on their coup.

  “But guess what,” gurgled Mera, “one of the big cars is ready and we’ll be taking a whole lot of Daila’s people back with us. We get a faster ride, too.”

  The new car was indeed fast, beyond the speed of sound. In the confines of the tunnel, sonic boom seemed not to be feared, possibly because there was not enough surrounding air to generate one. At least any audible result of shock waves would be left far behind them. Donley would have to ask Randall to be sure of this, although they had certainly heard nothing of the sort and were less than a half hour reaching the western terminal. Using these new cars would greatly speed up the exchange of Daila’s and Apdar’s people.

  The two prisoners, surly and mouthing curses, were left manacled and were temporarily locked into separate rooms off the rotunda which were ordinarily used for equipment storage but were now empty on account of the construction work outside.

  Captain Stark was taken to Apdar’s operating room and laid on the table, where the eastern leader proceeded to examine his wound and check his pulse and respiration. Temperature as well. Stark was still under the influence of the hypodermic injection but was declared by Apdar to be in good shape.

  “Your doctor,” he told Daila, “did fine with him. The man will get well. Can move him to room down below. I see him again when he wakes.”

  Randall had come in to join them as Lantag and the Martian carried Stark out. “We put him in my bed,” Lantag was saying, “until his own ready.”

  “What’s the story about Stark and the two others?” Randall wanted to know.

  They repaired to an adjoining room, a sort of library where plenty of comfortable seats were available. Mr. Standish and the steward had joined them, having learned of their arrival with the captain.

  “The story,” Donley began, “is a long one but I think when it’s all considered we can rule Stark out as a confederate. Tarjen here recognized the two crooks from the phobos and it was they who forced Stark to knock out the steward, forced him to take them in the escape ship, and now have shot him. They’re safely locked up and the question is what to do with them.”

  Daila made a suggestion: “Would it not be a good idea to open the metal box and see what it is they have stolen?”

  Everybody agreed and her two guards set the box before them on a table. Apdar,
after going out for some tools, managed to pry open the lid. There in neat packages, labeled with the Venusian word Evoro was a fortune in the narcotic drug which was having such devastating effect on the youth of both Terra and Mars.

  “Several million credits’ worth!” gasped Donley. “No wonder they wanted to get away with it!”

  Daila’s thought-words disclaimed any hold on the prisoners after this revelation. “I’m certain they will pay for all of their crimes, including those against my subjects. Return them with the first ship that comes here from your world.”

  They agreed solemnly and Apdar offered the use of a pair of cells for their safekeeping until the day of departure for Terra. Cells, he said which had not been used for generations.

  As they broke up the meeting and started across the rotunda, the floor quivered heavily beneath their feet, the entire dome overhead swayed violently and there were the crashes of heavy objects toppling to the floor back in the library and in other side rooms.

  “An earthquake!”

  The Orminese, both eastern and western territorials, seemed to be about ready to panic. Outside on the slope arose a babbling of shouts and cries, some of them hysterical. And the sounds of construction down at the shore ceased, pile drivers and bulldozers being deserted by their operators. Daila and Apdar kept cool, as befitted their station, and followed Randall and Donley as they rushed out over the weaving floor to see what could be done to quiet the fears of the populace. Apdar steered Randall to a microphone stand just outside, explaining that it operated the audios that had been erected for the ceremonies as well as the system in the levels below.

  In a very few seconds the temblor subsided and the ground beneath them was steady once more. But the slope was a shambles of terrified humanity, scurrying hither and yon, not knowing which way to turn for safety from this phenomenon they could only interpret as a further calamity of planet-wide proportions.

  Randall was shouting into the mike, with Apdar interpreting after him, “Hold it everybody! This is only a quake caused by shifting of rock or soil strata that were disturbed during the great collision. There may be more shocks, but there’s little to fear if you just stay away from heavy structures or objects that could topple upon you. Stay away from underneath anything which might be dislodged and crush you.”

  But this generation of Orminese had never experienced anything like this before. Consequently it was not easy to convince them. Especially since a secondary temblor followed almost immediately.

  However, after a little more exhortation over the audio systems all was quiet once more. But Donley had a feeling of impending trouble, of what sort he could not imagine.

  Randall and Mr. Standish had been closeted together with Apdar in the laboratory section of the upper dome for about half a day when Donley became curious and climbed the circular stair himself. Just in time to hear a shout from the mate.

  “That’s it! That’s it! The Meteoricf” he exulted. “Of all the good luck, on an island.”

  “Luck, Mr. Standish? That a limitless sea should come to surround the ship and an island be supplied to hold it above water. This you call luck? I say it is part of a Plan. Remember?” Randall was back on his favorite theme.

  Somehow, now it made sense to Donley. He thought fleetingly of the cosmic pulse as he saw that they had located the vessel with electronic feelers and optical scanners. But how would they get to it?

  He must have been exercising his telepathic “sending” ability without intention, for as if in answer to his question Apdar said, “We can get to it by using the rocket packs. From space suits.”

  “Right. We sure can,” said Randall, “and let’s do it—now. Let’s look over the damage and see if it can be repaired.”

  “Okay if I come along?” Donley asked from the doorway.

  Surprised, the three looked around at him. All three grinned and voiced assent, each in his own way.

  He kept close to Randall as they went below and selected rocket packs that held sufficient fuel from the heap in the storeroom. A small crowd gathered to see them off as, one by one, they rose on the twin exhausts of the rocket tubes. It was but a few minutes to the Meteoric.

  A quick inspection showed a considerable stretch of hull plates on the bottom torn loose, a few of these buckled beyond repair but the rest merely needed to be welded in place. The hull bracing was intact.

  Returning to the dome, Apdar turned his attention to the radio equipment he had been experimenting with before the coming of the ray stream and the steller beat.

  “This,” he told them, “was intended to be used for interplanetary communication. But put out of commission by cosmic energy. We try it now.”

  “Try point two five megacycles frequency,” Randall suggested, “with call letters WSA-1000. That’s World Space Authority headquarters.”

  Apdar translated this into his own standards and made some dial settings, then closed a switch that set a motor-generator singing and lighted the panel of the radio. He pulled down a headset very much like those used on earth, clamped it over his ears and started a monotonous refrain.

  “Calling WSA-1000, calling WSA-1000, Planet Or-min calling WSA-1000, calling WSA-1000.”

  Apdar threw the send-receive switch and they all listened with bated breath. Nothing came through the audio excepting the crackling of static.

  He tried again. “Planet Ormin calling WSA-1000, calling WSA-1000—”

  Again the switch was thrown and again all of them listened, but not for long. Faintly there came the words, “Come in Planet Ormin. Over.”

  It was World Space Authority Headquarters. Apdar replied, asking for a tuning signal. It came back, “WSA-1000 testing, WSA-1000 testing,” repeated at least ten times. Apdar tuned carefully and brought in the voice strongly by the time the speaker had come to the final “over.”

  “Thank you WSA-1000,” said Apdar. “I read you fine. Telling you Doctor Randall is here and wants to report. Over.”

  “Roger, Planet Ormin,” came the response. “We’ll get Colonel Reyn on here. Meanwhile will have call letters and number assigned for your use. Here is the colonel—”

  Another voice came on, deeper, more authoritative. “You there, Randall?” it asked. “Been wondering about you. Come in with your report please. Over.”

  A long conversation followed, developing the facts that the WSA had determined the orbit, position and many physical data regarding their planet. They had been tracing it since the Meteoric first reported and now had two etherships on the way to rescue the survivors. Randall reported the capture of the two narcotic runners and was informed of their importance as two of the principals in the combine which had been only partially broken up. The recovery of the contraband is likewise good news to WSA and other authorities.

  Randall told of the two civilizations of Ormin, a little of their past history and of their joining forces on the surface since the collision which had rejuvenated their planet.

  While the conversation was going on, Donley held up a card on which he had pencilled, “Ask when the rescue ships arrive.”

  Randall’s question in this regard elicited the information that eighteen days of Ormin’s time would still be required for the journey. “Be sure you have landing facilities readied by then,” the colonel added.

  “We’ll be ready, Sir,” was Randall’s final word. “Signing off.”

  Jack returned quickly to Mera with news of the rescue ships. But he did not tell her of the renewed enmities on earth. This could wait; it was enough that he worry about it in secret.

  Even the slightest possibility of a nuclear disaster to Terra such as the past had brought to Ormin was unthinkable. It could not be.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  In ten days time, much was accomplished.

  Dailapdar, the new city by the sea, was already taking shape. Public squares, broad avenues with four-lane moving ways in each direction, walkways along the sea front, had been laid out in accordance with a detailed plan wor
ked out by the hastily formed city planning board. This board had members from both east and west and had retained as advisor a celebrated architect from Terra who had been a passenger on the Saturnia. Main and $ide streets of residential areas of the city, as well as many dissimilar models of houses and apartments were being designed by this architect.

  Construction shanties outlined the area and grading, excavation, the setting of foundations, even the erection of structural steel columns for the public buildings, was well under way. Heavy construction equipment brought up through new large size lift shafts from both the eastern and western communities were in constant use, day and night, in addition to which new equipment manufacture had been started in mills and foundries built along the shore outside the city limits. A scene of tremendous activity was to be observed by day or night and the close cooperation of artisans and workmen of various trades helped greatly in speeding the fraternization of the easterns and westerns.

  There seemed to be an almost irresistible attraction between young men of the east and young women of the west—and vice versa. Already, a number of intermarriages were planned, making it obvious even at this early stage that complete integration of the two races would not be long in coming. Actually, there were scarcely any noticeable differences in physical appearance between the two, or in their way of thinking. Even their spoken tongues were enough alike as to make communication a simple matter, assisted a little over any difficult spots by the thought-transference training of the westerners. This younger generation was already considering itself as comprised of neither easterners nor westerners but Orminese. And using the term in public. It was truly a one world concept And a population explosion was sure to ensue.

  It was at about this time that Daila and Apdar announced over the audio systems that they planned an immediate personal union. The reason was apparent at once, the statement being received with good-humored disbelief by both the Orminese and their visitors from the other planets. For had not many of them seen the glances that passed between the two in public? Actually the mating of the two rulers was hailed as a royal romance that would weld solidly the new alliance and make their people as one.