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Skylark Vol 4 – Skylark DuQuesne – E.E. Doc Smith

Reply on tight beam of the sixth. DuQuesne calling Seaton . . .”

8 INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION

WHEN Seaton and Crane had begun to supply the Earth with ridiculously cheap power,

they had expected an economic boom and a significant improvement in the standard of

living. Neither of them had any idea, however, of the effect upon the world’s economy

that their space-flights would have; but many tycoons of industry did.

They were shrewd operators, those tycoons. As one man they licked their chops at the

idea of interstellar passages made in days. They gloated over thoughts of the multifold

increase in productive capacity that would have to be made so soon; as soon as

commerce was opened up with dozens and then with hundreds of Tellus-type worlds,

inhabited by human beings as human as those of Earth. And when they envisioned

hundreds and hundreds of uninhabited Tellustype worlds, each begging to be grabbed

and exploited by whoever got to it first with enough stuff to hold it and to develop it . . .

they positively drooled.

These men did not think of money as money, but as their most effective and most

important tool: a tool to be used as knowledgeably as the old-time lumberjack used his

axe.

Thus, Earth was going through convulsions of change more revolutionary by far than

any it had experienced throughout all previous history. All those pressures building up

at once had blown the lid completely off. Seaton and Crane and their associates had

been working fifteen hours a day for months training people in previously unimagined

skills; trying to keep the literally exploding economy from degenerating into complete

chaos.

They could not have done it alone, of course. In fact, it was all that a thousand

Norlaminian “Observers” could do to keep the situation even approximately in hand.

And even the Congress-mirabile dictu!-welcomed those aliens with open arms; for it

was so hopelessly deadlocked in trying to work out any workable or enforceable laws

that it was accomplishing nothing at all.

All steel mills were working at one hundred ten per cent of capacity. So were almost all

other kinds of plants. Machine tools were in such demand that no estimated time of

delivery could be obtained. Arenak, dagal, and inoson, those wonder-materials of the

construction industry, would be in general supply some day; but that day would not be

allowed to come until the changeover could be made without disrupting the entire

economy. Inoson especially was confined to the spaceship builders; and, while every

pretense was being made that production was being increased as fast as possible, the

demand for spaceships was so insatiable that every hulk that could leave atmosphere

was out in deep space.

Multi-billion-dollar corporations were springing up all over Earth. Each sought out and

began to develop a Tellustype planet of its own, to bring up as a civilized planet or

merely to exploit as it saw fit. Each was clamoring for and using every possible artifice

of persuasion, lobbying, horse-trading, and out-and-out bribery and corruption to obtain-

spaceships, personnel, machinery light and heavy, office equipment, and supplies. All

the employables of Earth, and many theretofore considered unemployable, were at

work.

Earth was a celestial madhouse . . .

It is no wonder, then, that Seaton and Crane were haggard and worn when they had to

turn their jobs over to two upper-bracket Norlaminians and leave Earth.

Their situation thereafter was not much better.

The first steps were easy-anyway, the decisions involved were easy; the actual work

involved was roughly equivalent to the energy budget of several Sol-type suns. It is an

enormous project to set up a line of defense hundreds of thousands of miles long;

especially when the setters-up do not know exactly what to expect in the way of attack.

They knew, in fact, only one thing: that the Norlaminians had made a probabilistic

statement that Marc C. DuQuesne was likely to be present among them before long.

That was excuse, reason and compulsion enough to demand the largest and most

protracted effort they could make. The mere preliminaries involved laying out axes of

action that embraced many solar systems, locating and developing sources of materials

and energies that were enough to smother a hundred suns. As that work began to

shape up, Seaton and Crane came face to face with the secondary line of problems . . .

and at that point Seaton suddenly smote himself on the forehead and cried: “Dunark!”

Crane looked up. “Dunark? Why, yes, Dick. Quite right. Not only is he probably the

universe’s greatest strategist, but he knows the enemy almost as well as you and I do.”

“And besides,” Seaton added, “he doesn’t think like us. Not at all. And that’s what we

want; so I’ll call him now and we’ll compute a rendezvous.”

Wherefore, a few days later, Dunark’s Osnomian cruiser matched velocities with the

hurtling worldlet and began to negotiate its locks. Seaton shoved up the Valeron’s

airpressure, cut down its gravity, and reached for the master thermostat.

“Not too hot, Dick,” Dorothy said. “Light gravity is all right, but make them wear some

clothes any time they’re outside their special quarters. I simply won’t run around naked

in my own house. And I won’t have them doing it, either.”

Seaton laughed. “The usual eighty-three degrees and twenty-five per cent humidity.

They’ll wear clothes, all right. She’ll be tickled to death to wear that fur coat you gave

her-she doesn’t get a chance to, very often-and we can stand it easily enough,” and the

four Tellurians went out to the dock to greet their green-skinned friends of old: Crown

Prince Dunark and Crown Princess Sitar of Osnome, one of the planets of the

enormous central sun of the Central System.

Warlike, bloodthirsty, supremely able Dunark; and Sitar, his lovely, vivacious-and

equally warlike-wife. He was wearing ski-pants (Osnome’s temperature, at every point

on its surface and during every minute of every day of the year, is one hundred degrees

Fahrenheit), a heavy sweater, wool socks, and fur-lined moccasins. She wore a sweater

and slacks under her usual fantastic array of Osnomian jewelry; and over it, as Seaton

had predicted, the full-length mink coat. Each was wearing only one Osnomian machine

pistol instead of the arsenal that had been their customary garb such a short time

before.

The three men greeted each other warmly and executed a six-hand handshake; the

while the two white women and the green one went into an arms-wrapped group; each

talking two hundred words to the minute.

A couple of days later, the Norlaminian task-force arrived and a council of war was held

that lasted for one full working day. Then, the defense planned in length and in depth,

construction began. Seaton and Crane sat in the two master-control helmets of the

Brain. Rovol worked with the brain of the Norlaminian spaceship. Dozens of other

operators, men and women, worked at and with other, less powerful devices.

On the surface of a nearby planet, ten thousand square miles of land were leveled and

paved to form the Area of Work. Stacks and piles and rows and assortments of

hundreds of kinds of structural members appeared as though by magic. Gigantic beams

of force, made visible by a thin and dusty pseudo-mist, flashed here and there; seizing

this member and that and these and them and those and joining them together with

fantastic speed to form enormous towers and platforms and telescope-like things and

dirigible tubes and projectors.

Some of these projectors took containers of pure force out to white dwarf stars after

neutronium. Others took faidons-those indestructible jewels that are the sine qua non of

higher-order operation-out to the cores of stars to be worked into lenses of various

shapes and sizes. Out into the environment of scores of millions of degrees of

temperature and of scores of millions of tons per square inch of pressure that is the

only environment in which the faidon can be worked by any force known to the science

of man.

The base-line, which was to be built of enormous, absolutely rigid beams of force, could

not be of planetary, or even of orbital dimensions. It had to extend, a precisely

measured length, from the core of a star to that of another, having as nearly as possible

the same proper motion, over a hundred parsecs away. Thus it took over a week to

build and to calibrate that base-line; but, once that was done, the work went fast.

The most probable lines of approach were blocked by fourth-, fifth-, and sixth-order

installations of tremendous range and of planetary power; less probable ones by

defenses of somewhat lesser might; supersensitive detector webs fanned out

everywhere. And this work, which would have required years a short time before, was

only a matter of a couple of weeks for the gigantic constructor-projectors now filling the

entire Area of Work.

When everything that anyone could think of doing had been done, Seaton lit his pipe,

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