The Science Fiction of Erle Stanley Gardner - The Human Zero

by Matin Greenberg

  Click glanced downward, gasped.

  He found that the shell had finally come to a stop not more than a hundred feet above the tops of the office buildings in the main business district of Centerberry.

  Just below him were the intersections of Main Street, First Avenue, and Center Square. And those intersections were thronged with people. Every face was upturned. They had detected the strange metal container as it hung poised above them.

  Traffic had stopped. People stood exactly as they had paused to look up. Some were halfway across the streets. Some were entering stores.

  Then people began to swarm out of buildings, into the street. Even stalled automobiles debouched their startled passengers.

  The shell drifted gently downward,, The tops of the buildings became closer. Then the metal actually dropped into the canon between the buildings, drifting over the heads of the people as a drifting soap bubble. People became panicky, ran for shelter, trampled and jostled in a squirming mass.

  “We’re getting lower and lower,” shouted Click, and turned to see if Professor Wagner was aware of their danger. To his consternation he found that the professor had fainted, that his daughter was bent over him solicitously.

  The shell was down below the seventh floors of the buildings now, drifting ever downward. It got closer to the north side of the street, finally brushed against the windows of the building. Those windows were black with packed humanity.

  Click could see their faces, see the startled eyes, big with wonder, could even see their lips moving in shouts. But no sound penetrated to the interior of the shell.

  The man on the floor, who had become unconscious when the oxygen content of the air had been sucked out through the open window in the interior shell, stirred.

  As lightly as a bit of thistle down blown by a gentle breeze, the metal shell rubbed along against the office building. Click saw that it was the McKinstry Building, even recognized one of the stenographers who stared with popping eyes at the shell.

  And the strange metal structure was settling lower and lower. People ran screaming from its path. A policeman had drawn his revolver, was pointing it upward threateningly. The beehive was trapped in the canon of city streets. The wind held it against the north side of the street, plastered it against the buildings.

  Click jumped to the metal table. There was a lever and a slide button in a metal groove. He didn’t understand the function of the lever, but he saw on the grooved slide the figures which had been etched into the metal.

  Gravitation Gauge: + 64, 32, 16, 8, 4, 2, 0, — 2, 4,

  8, 16, 32, 64, 128

  Click noticed the button. It was almost at a point marked with a zero, but it was not quite on the line. He pushed on the button, gingerly shoved it until it was exactly on the etched line opposite the zero.

  “Father’s in bad shape. Too much strain, too much shock. We’ve got to get him to bed,” said the girl.

  And then, as Click moved to help her, she picked up the unconscious form by the simple expedient of pinching her thumb and forefinger in the waistband of his trousers.

  For a moment Click could not believe his eyes. Then he remembered the sliding indicator with the button set at “Gravitation zero.”

  “May I help?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “I can manage all right. You keep your eyes on that fellow on the floor. You can’t take any chances with him.”

  The inner door slammed.

  CHAPTER 4

  A Good Newspaper Man

  Apparently the girl had failed to notice that they were drifting down the main street of Centerberry, creating a veritable panic of interest.

  Click thrilled to the opportunity. Busy with her father, nursing him, getting him safely in bed, seeing that the bandaged shoulder was made comfortable, the girl wouldn’t notice the motions of the shell. It was a chance for Click to experiment.

  He glanced once more at the figure on the floor, then suddenly awoke to his original mission. The shell was holding its elevation now, rising very slightly on the warm currents of air that shimmered against the sides of the office buildings.

  But the offices of the Centerberry Bugle were only a block down the street, and the wind was drifting the metal shell against the buildings, almost directly in line with the newspaper offices.

  There was paper and pencil in his pocket, and Click fell to scribbling rapid notes, printing the letters large so the notes could be held against a window and read.

  Kidnaped. Thugs attack professor and daughter. Stowaway held captive.

  Gravitation overcome by some theory of neutralizing etheric vibrations.

  Trip to planets planned.

  Professor and self wounded, but not seriously.

  Have ascended over twenty miles above earth.

  He looked out. The Bugle offices were but a matter of windows away. Click rushed to the round loopholes.

  The wind brushed the shell against the building. It bumped, bounced, rolled and bumped again. Then the windows of the Bugle loomed before him. He looked squarely into the eyes of the city editor. That individual’s face ran a gamut of emotions. He yelled an order over his shoulder.

  The shell drifted lightly by the window, came to the next. Here were men, packed to the frame, gawking outward. There was a rustle of motion and the men cleared from the window as though by magic. Click held the message against the three-inch plate glass. Would they copy it? What was the matter?

  A round lens was thrust up against the office window frame. He could see a photographer focusing his camera upon the message.

  It was a clever idea. They’d photograph the message, it would be quicker than copying. Click wished he’d said more.

  But there was no time. The photographer nodded, jerked out a plate holder, ran to the next window, tried again, nodded.

  Click crossed to the metal table, pulled the button over to "-2.”

  There was a lurch, a scraping of the building against the metal of the shell, and then the windows of the structure shot past with the smooth velocity of an express elevator.

  Click realized that the shell went upward with an accelerating velocity, equal to the acceleration of a falling body.

  A hundred, five hundred, a thousand feet up shot the metal container. Click moved the sliding button to zero. The ball continued to go up. Then Click realized that the momentum of the shell was taking them on up. It would be necessary to overcome that momentum.

  Click pulled the button over to plus two.

  Instantly things happened.

  There was a peculiar sensation of arrested motion. His heart gave a few panicky beats, but there was no sliding toward the roof as he had expected. Instead, everything remained as before, save for that peculiar sensation of arrested motion.

  He looked about him, rubbed his eyes.

  Then it dawned upon him. Gravitation had taken hold of everything alike. But weight had returned to his body. His blood weighed twice as much. The strain of lifting it was that much more of a burden on his heart; but only for a few beats. Then the new gravitation had compensated itself.

  Had the shell been stationary, his body would weigh twice as much, but the shell was floating in the air. If it fell, his body fell equally fast. It was only when the motion was checked that gravity had a chance to tell.

  Of a sudden Click remembered the trouble Professor Wagner had encountered in stopping the falling shell. He looked out. Not only had their upward motion ceased, but they were falling.

  He moved the control.

  The door slammed open from behind him.

  “What are you doing?” snapped Dot Wagner. “Is this any time to experiment?”

  “We were drifting down into the street,” he explained, but did not bother to tell her of how he had taken advantage of that fact to get the greatest scoop of the century to his newspaper.

  She grunted. “Get over and tie that man up. I’ll try the controls.”

  She tossed him a bit of rope, and Click tapped his
toes upon the floor, propelling himself toward the stowaway. “Who is this fellow?”

  She shook her head. “Ask Father.”

  Click tried another question. “Where are we going?”

  She pointed upward. “The sky’s the limit.”

  “Let’s go.”

  She sighed. “Do you know, I’m commencing to like you. You’ve got adaptability, and—”

  “Yes,” prompted Click, “and what?”

  “And nerve,” she snapped. “Got that man tied up?” “After a fashion. It’ll hold him from doing anything rash.” The girl looked about her, touched the lever.

  The cage whirled, wobbled back and forth in a swing, for all the world like a compass needle swinging toward the magnetic north. Then, when it had steadied, she pushed a button.

  Instantly the ground below began slipping by, not at a very rapid rate of speed, but at a smooth motion that was constantly accelerated.

  She moved the gravitation control to negative two, watched the ground below for a second or two, then slipped the button back to zero. The ground drifted and dropped until the shell was over two thousand feet. Then the girl eased over the button so gradually that the shell swung smoothly along at a constant elevation.

  She smiled up at Click’s puzzled frown.

  “Magnetism,” she said. “You might as well know something about it. Magnetism is the least known force in the world, and the most universal. The world’s a magnet. Even living organisms are magnetic. Also remember that all electricity is, is a force induced by cutting magnetic fields with a wire. We multiply that force by wire that’s in fine coils rotating rapidly. But you can imagine what would happen if a properly energized, properly constructed apparatus suddenly cut the magnetic lines of force about the earth.”

  Click waved his hand.

  “Whoa there! You’re getting too deep for me. I’ve seen the thing run, and the fact that we’re up here’s proof enough that it works. What I want to know is, when I’m going to get back on my job, and what we’re going to do with his nibs over there. I don’t mind tying up a man to accommodate him; but I don’t want to get mixed up in a kidnaping charge.”

  She frowned thoughtfully for a minute, then moved closer, lowered her voice.

  “I’ll tell you this much. This man is a dreadful menace; and he’s a murderer.”

  Click glanced at the man on the floor.

  “He doesn’t look so bad. Those gimlet eyes of his are a little disquieting; but I wouldn’t take him for such a hard case. Looks a little too thoughtful to be a crook type.”

  She gave her head an impatient shake, placed a hand on his arm in an earnest attempt at conviction, realized what she had done, and jerked the hand away.

  “He’s a scientist. That is, he’d call himself one. He worked in a laboratory, has a good grasp of magnetic sciences and astro-physics. But he’s unscrupulous, a fanatic—and—and— and a murderer.”

  “Yes? That’s twice you’ve used that term.”

  “Well, it’s not my secret to tell. But his name’s Badger. He worked in one of the laboratories where Father had certain parts of his equipment manufactured. He was shrewd enough to find out what Father was up to. And he realized something of the possibilities of this thing, which is more than many people did. Father had a partner, a young assistant, a frightfully keen chap. He had tuberculosis; but he wouldn’t take any sort of care of himself. He got so worked up over this idea he worked on it night and day. Father trusted him, told him a lot. Badger kidnaped this man, held him out all one night, threatening all sorts of dire things if the man wouldn’t talk. As a result he caught cold and died.”

  The man on the floor raised his voice.

  “I don’t know what she’s telling you, but I know it’s false. I’m merely an innocent stowaway, searching for a thrill. I demand that I be given my liberty.”

  The girl paid no attention to him.

  “You have no idea what this invention means commercially. Father is interested in it purely from a standpoint of scientific investigations. Commercially it’s worth millions and millions.

  “You saw the three men who tried to kidnap me. When they knew Father had achieved success they would have stopped at nothing. They planned to hold me captive, and force Father to ransom me by giving them a share of the profits, or else to force Father to divulge his secret to them.

  “I tell you, there’s so much potential wealth in this thing that murder becomes a mere nothing to the men who want to solve the secret.”

  Click turned her words over in his mind.

  “What’ll you do with this chap? Drop down and turn him loose?”

  “Certainly not! He knows too much now. He had an opportunity to study the mechanism. He’d ask for nothing better than to be put out. By the time we returned he’d have the whole invention exploited for all it was worth.”

  “Well, what, then? Will your father call off his trip of interstellar exploration?”

  “You should know Dad better than that. He warned me not to give him an opiate, but I did it just the same. He’ll sleep a few hours. When he awakes, no power on earth can keep him from starting on his journey. You understand that money and glory mean but little to him. He’s after scientific data.”

  “But,” protested Click, “this man Badger will be a menace to him when your father returns.”

  “We’ll handle that when the time comes. But you must remember the chances are about a hundred to one against our returning. And if we do not, we aren’t going to leave our secret behind us, in the hands of an unscrupulous scoundrel.”

  Click Kendall rubbed his chin.

  “Well, then, how about me?”

  “Why, you’re going, too, of course. We couldn’t leave you behind to publish what you’ve found out.”

  “And I’m not to be allowed back on earth, not even to send messages?”

  She smiled, and shook her head.

  “Of course not, silly! That’s just what we don’t want you to do—send messages.”

  Badger stirred, attempted to sit up.

  “You’ll pay for this,” he croaked.

  The girl paid no attention whatever to him, but glanced at the terrain below.

  “This is a good place,” she remarked, and manipulated the lever and slide. Instantly the car slowed to a stop, wobbled back and forth like a gob of wax on the end of some invisible string.

  Then it slowly settled.

  Below was a wild, wooded country. There was no sign of habitation. The level rays of the setting sun showed dark green foliage, winding rivers, occasional meadows. There was no sign of any road, no house, no fence.

  Dorothy Wagner flung open the door, thrust out her head.

  “Come and look at it. It’s delightful. We’re only about a thousand feet up. You can even smell the pines.”

  Click joined her at the door. The balmy air was soothing to his nostrils. Over the country lay the calm hush of a warm twilight.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Wait.”

  “For what?”

  “For Father to wake up.”

  “And then?”

  She did not answer in words, but pointed her finger up at the darkening sky.

  Badger struggled with his cords, flung himself about on the floor, but was unable to gain his freedom. At length he subsided, muttering rumbled threats.

  The last rays of the sun were swallowed up by the golden horizon. Dusk gave place to darkness. In wordless silence the two in the doorway drank in the scenery.

  Each engrossed with thoughts, they watched the stars silently appear, swing upward. Below, the world lay black and mysterious. Once there was the flicker of a light. Far to the north a camper built a small camp fire which sent its red light flickering over the tree tops. Away to the east a glow in the sky marked the location of a city.

  After an hour the eastern horizon glowed, lighted, and the rim of a moon climbed into dazzling sight. Within a few minutes it hung suspended, clear of the mountain ri
ms.

  CHAPTER 5

  Into Space

  There was the sound of a door opening. Abruptly, lights came on, flooding the place with eye-aching brilliance. Professor Wagner stood in the doorway of the cone, his eyes glittering with hectic intensity.

  “Dot, you gave me an opiate.”

  She met his accusing gaze.

  “I did what I thought was best, Father.”

  He pointed toward the circle of the moon.

  “Do you want us to get tangled up in the gravitational field of that moon?”

  “What would it do, Father?”

  “Do? It would delay us hours, days, perhaps trap us in the cold clutch of a dead satellite! No moons for me! I want to get out and see something of the solar system. I want planets, life, atmosphere. Quick! Let’s go!”

  Badger again flopped about in struggling panic.

  “It’s kidnaping, murder!” he cried.

  “Close that door, hold everything!” snapped Professor Wagner, and placed his thumb upon the sliding button.

  The lights clicked off. There was a sensation of sudden motion, and then the scientist’s exulting voice pealed forth a cry of triumph.

  “We’re off!”

  Click looked through the window in the floor, then recoiled in surprise.

  The shell was hurtling upward with such terrific speed the earth seemed to contract upon itself, wither into a shriveled shell. The boundaries of the forest were not apparent. Clusters of lights showed as bordering villages. Those pin-points of lights crowded closer together, became merged in a single blob of brilliance. The larger cities appeared, swept below in an ever narrowing circle.