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Skylark Vol 3 – Skylark of Valeron – E E. Doc Smith

bodies. To no purpose. Those shelters had been designed and constructed to withstand

the attacks of Nature gone berserk, and futile indeed were the attempts of the frenzied

hordes to tear a way into their sacred recesses.

Thus died the devoted and high-souled band who had saved their civilization; but in that

death each man was granted the boon which, deep in his heart, he craved. They had

died quickly and violently, fighting for a cause they knew to be good. They did not die as

did the members of the insanely terror-stricken, senseless mob . . . in agony . . .

lingeringly . . . but it is best to draw a kindly veil before the horrors attendant upon that

riving, that tormenting, that cosmic outraging of a world.

* * * * *

The suns passed, each upon his appointed way. The cosmic forces ceased to war and

to the tortured and ravaged planet there at last came peace. The surviving children of

Valeron emerged from their subterranean retreats and undauntedly took up the task of

rebuilding their world. And to such good purpose did they devote themselves to the

problems of rehabilitation that in a few hundred years there bloomed upon Valeron a

civilization and a culture scarcely to be equaled in the universe.

For the new race had been cradled in adversity. In its ancestry there was no physical or

mental taint or weakness, all dross having been burned away by the fires of cosmic

catastrophe which had so nearly obliterated all the life of the planet. They were as yet

perhaps inferior to the old race in point of numbers, but were immeasurably superior to it

in physical, mental, moral, and intellectual worth.

Immediately after the Emergence it had been observed that the two outermost planets of

the system had disappeared and that in their stead revolved a new planet. This

phenomenon was recognized for what it was, an exchange of planets; something to give

concern only to astronomers.

No one except sheerest romancers even gave thought to the possibility of life upon other

worlds, it being an almost mathematically demonstrable fact that the Valeronians were

the only life in the entire universe. And even if other planets might possibly be inhabited,

what of it? The vast reaches of empty ether intervening between Valeron and even her

nearest fellow planet formed an insuperable obstacle even to communication, to say

nothing of physical passage. Little did anyone dream, as generation followed generation,

of what hideously intelligent life that interloping planet bore, nor of how the fair world of

Valeron was to suffer from it.

When the interplanetary invaders were discovered upon Valeron, Quedrin Vornel, the

most brilliant physicist of the planet, and his son Quedrin Radnor, the most renowned,

were among the first to be informed of the visitation.

Of these two, Quedrin Vornel had for many years been engaged in researches of the

most abstruse and fundamental character upon the ultimate structure of matter. He had

delved deeply into those which we know as matter, energy, and ether, and had studied

exhaustively the phenomena characteristic of or associated with atomic, electronic, and

photonic rearrangements.

His son, while a scientist of no mean attainments in his own right, did not possess the

phenomenally powerful and profoundly analytical mind that had made the elder Quedrin

the outstanding scientific genius of his time. He was, however, a synchronizer par

excellence, possessing to a unique degree the ability to develop things and processes of

great utilitarian value from concepts and discoveries of a purely scientific and academic

nature.

The vibrations which we know as Hertzian waves had long been known and had long

been employed in radio, both broadcast and tight-beam, in television, in beam-

transmission of power, and in receiverless visirays and their blocking screens. When

Quedrin the elder disrupted the atom, however, successfully and safely liberating and

studying not only its stupendous energy but also an entire series of vibrations and

particles theretofore unknown to science, Quedrin the younger began forthwith to turn the

resulting products to the good of mankind.

Intra-atomic energy soon drove every prime mover of Valeron and shorter and shorter

waves were harnessed. In beams, fans, and broadcasts Quedrin Radnor combined and

heterodyned them, making of them tools and instruments immeasurably superior in

power, precision, and adaptability to anything that his world had ever before known.

Due to the signal abilities of brilliant father and famous son, the laboratory in which they

labored was connected by a private communication beam with the executive office of the

Bardyle of Valeron. “Bardyle,” freely translated, means “coordinator.” He was neither

king, emperor, nor president; and, while his authority was supreme, he was not a

dictator.

A paradoxical statement this, but a true one; for the orders-rather, requests and

suggestions-of the Bardyle merely guided the activities of men and women who had

neither government nor laws, as we understand the terms, but were working of their own

volition for the good of all mankind. The Bardyle could not conceivably issue an order

contrary to the common weal, nor would such an order have been obeyed.

Upon the wall of the laboratory the tuned buzzer of the Bardyle’s beam-communicator

sounded its subdued call and Klynor Siblin, the scientist’s capable assistant, took the call

upon his desk instrument. A strong, youthful face appeared upon the screen.

“Radnor is not here, Siblin?” The pictured visitor glanced about the room as he spoke.

“No, sir. He is out in the space ship, making another test flight. He is merely circling the

world, however, so that I can easily get him on the plate here if you wish.”

“That would perhaps be desirable. Something very peculiar has occurred, concerning

which all three of you should be informed.”

The connections were made and the Bardyle went on:

“A semicircular dome of force has been erected over the ruins of the ancient city of

Mocelyn. It is impossible to say how long it has been in place, since you know the ruins

lie in an entirely unpopulated area. It is, however, of an unknown composition and

pattern, being opaque to vision and to our visibeams. It is also apparently impervious to

matter. Since this phenomenon seems to lie in your province I would suggest that you

three men investigate it and take such steps as you deem necessary.”

“It is noted, Bardyle,” and Klynor Siblin cut the beam.

He then shot out their heaviest visiray beam, poising its viewpoint directly over what, in

the days before the cataclysm, had been the populous city of Mocelyn.

Straight down the beam drove, upon the huge hemisphere of greenly glinting force; urged

downward by the full power of the Quedrins’ mighty generators. By the very vehemence

of its thrust it tore through the barrier, but only for an instant. The watchers had time to

perceive only fleetingly a greenish-yellow haze of light, but before any details could be

grasped their beam was snapped-the automatically reacting screens had called for and

had received enough additional power to neutralize the invading beam.

Then, to the amazement of the three physicists, a beam of visible energy thrust itself

from the green barrier and began to feel its way along their own invisible visiray. Siblin

cut off his power instantly and leaped toward the door.

“Whoever they are, they know something!” he shouted as he ran. “Don’t want them to

find this laboratory, so I’ll set up a diversion with a rocket plane. If you watch at all,

Vornel, do it from a distance and with a spy ray, not a carrier beam. I’ll get in touch with

Radnor on the way.”

Even though he swung around in a wide circle, to approach the strange stronghold at a

wide angle to his former line, such was the power of the plane that Siblin reached his

destination in little more than an hour. Keying Radnor’s visibeam to the visiplates of the

plane, so that the distant scientist could see everything that happened, Siblin again drove

a heavy beam into the unyielding pattern of green force.

This time, however, the reaction was instantaneous. A fierce tongue of green flame

licked out and seized the flying plane in mid-air. One wing and side panel were sliced off

neatly and Siblin was thrown out violently, but he did not fall. Surrounded by a vibrant

shell of energy, he was drawn rapidly toward the huge dome. The dome merged with the

shell as it touched it, but the two did not coalesce. The shell passed smoothly through the

dome, which as smoothly closed behind it. Siblin inside the shell, the shell inside the

dome.

16 WITHIN THE CHLORAN DOME

Siblin never knew exactly what happened during those first few minutes, nor exactly how

it happened. One minute, in his sturdy plane, he was setting up his “diversion” by

directing a powerful beam of force upon the green dome of the invaders. Suddenly his

rocket ship had been blasted apart and he had been hurled away from the madly

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Categories: E.E Doc Smith
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