Spacehounds of IPC by E E. Doc Smith

actually called.”

He hooked a hand under her belt as the shocks came closer, and stood tense

and ready. The lancing plane cut through one end of their control room, and Stevens

leaped with his companion toward the new-made opening; while the air shrieked

outward into space and their suits bulged suddenly with the abrupt increase in pressure

differential. While they were in midflight the frightful blade of destruction cleaved its way

through the control board and through the spot upon which they had been standing a

moment before. As they passed the severed edge, en route into open space. Stevens

seized a projecting brace and clung there, every nerve taut.

“Something funny here, Nadia,” he said after a minute of strained waiting. “They

should have made one more cut, to make us absolutely blind and helpless. As it is

they’ve clipped off all our projectors, so we can’t move, but I think we’ve got the whole

control compartment of number two lifeboat untouched. If so, we can look around,

anyway. Let’s go!”

Floating effortlessly from fragment to fragment, they made their way toward the

as yet undamaged section of their cruiser. They found an airlock in working order, and

were soon in the second lifeboat, where Stevens hastily turned on a communicator and

peered out into space.

“There they are! There’s another stranger out there, too. They’re fighting with her,

now—that’s probably why they didn’t polish us off.” Steel-braced, clumsy helmets

touching, the two Terrestrials stared spell-bound into the plate; watching while the

insensately vicious intelligences within the sphere brought its every force to bear upon

another and larger sphere which was now so close as to be plainly visible. Like a

gigantic drop of quicksilver this second globe appeared—its smooth and highly-polished

surface one enormous spherical mirror. Watching tensely, they saw flash out that

frightful plane of seething energy, with the effects of which they were all too familiar, and

saw it strike full upon the dazzling ball.

“This is awful, ace!” Stevens groaned. “They haven’t got ray-screens, either, and

without them they don’t stand a chance. No possible substance can stand up under that

beam. When they get done and turn back to us, we’ll have to dive back there where we

were.”

But that brilliant mirror was not as vulnerable as Stevens had supposed. The

plane of force struck and clung, but could not penetrate it. Broken up into myriads of

scintillating crystals of light, intersecting, multi-colored rays, and cascading flares of

sparkling energy, the beam was reflected, thrown back, hurled away on all sides into

space in coruscating, blinding torrents. And neither was the monster globe inoffensive.

The straining watchers saw a port open suddenly, emit a flame-erupting something, and

close as rapidly as it had opened. That something was a projectile, its propelling rockets

fiercely aflame; as smoothly brilliant as its mother-ship and seemingly as impervious to

the lethal beams of the common foe. Detected almost instantly as it was, it received the

full power of the savage attack. The hitherto irresistible plane of force beat upon it; ultra-

violet, infra-red, and heat rays enveloped it; there were hurled against it all the forces

known to the monstrously scientific minds dwelling within that fiendishly destructive

sphere. Finally, only a scant few hundreds of yards from its goal, the protective mirror

was punctured and the freight of high explosive let go, with a silent, but nevertheless

terrific, detonation. But now another torpedo was on its way, and another, and another;

boring on ruthlessly toward the smaller sphere. Fighting simultaneously three torpedoes

and the giant globe, the enemy began dodging, darting hither and thither with a

stupendous acceleration; but the tiny pursuers could not be shaken off. At every dodge

and turn steering rockets burst into furious activity and the projectiles rushed ever

nearer. Knowing that she had at last encountered a superior force, the sphere turned in

mad flight; but, prodigious as was her acceleration, the torpedoes were faster and all

three of them struck her at once. There ensued an explosion veritably space-wracking

in its intensity; a flash of incandescent brilliance that seemed to fill all space, subsiding

into a vast volume of tenuous gas which, feebly glowing, flowed about and attached

itself to Cantrell’s Comet. And in the space where had been the enemy sphere there

was nothing.

A slow-creeping pale blue rod of tangible force reached out from the great

sphere, touched the wreckage of the Forlorn Hope, and pulled; gently but with

enormous power.

“Tractor beams again!” exclaimed Stevens, still at the plate. “Everybody’s got ’em

but us, it seems.”

“And we can’t fight a bit any more, can we ?”

“Not a chance—bows and arrows wouldn’t do us much good. However, we may

not need ’em. Since they fought that other crew, and haven’t blown us up, they aren’t

active enemies of ours, and may be friendly. I haven’t any idea who or what they are,

since even our communicator ray can’t get through that mirror, but it looks as though

our best bet is to act peaceable and see if we can’t talk to them in some way. Right?”

“Right.” They stepped out into the airlock, from which they saw that the great

sphere had halted only a few yards from them, and that an indistinct figure stood in an

open door, waving to them an unmistakable invitation to enter the strange vessel.

“Shall we, Steve?”

“Might as well. They’ve got us foul, and can take us if they want us. Anyway, we’ll

need at least a week to fix us up any kind of driving power, so we can’t run — and we

probably couldn’t get away from those folks if we had all our power. They haven’t blown

us up, and they could have done it easily enough. Besides, they act friendly, so we’d

better meet them half way. Dive!”

Floating toward the open doorway, they were met by another rod of force,

brought gently into the airlock, and supported upright beside the being who had invited

them to visit him. Apparently an empty space-suit stood there; a peculiarly-fitted suit of

some partially transparent, flexible, glass-like material; towering fully a foot over the

head of the tall Terrestrial. Closer inspection, however, revealed that there was

something inside that suit — a shadowy, weirdly-transparent being, staring at them with

large, black eyes. The door clanged shut behind them, they heard the faint hiss of

inrushing air, and the inner door opened; but their enveloping suits remained stretched

almost as tightly as ever. They felt the floor lurch beneath their feet, and a little weight

was granted them as the space-ship got under way. Stevens waved his arms vigorously

at the stranger, pointing backward toward where he supposed their own craft to be. The

latter waved an arm reassuringly, pressed a contact, and a section of the wall suddenly

became transparent. Through it Stevens saw with satisfaction that the Forlorn Hope

was not being abandoned; in the grip of powerful, tractor beams, every fragment of the

wreckage was following close behind them in their flight through space.

Stevens and Nadia followed their guide along a corridor, through several doors,

and into a large room, which at first glance seemed empty, but in which several of the

peculiarly transparent people of the craft were lying about upon cushions. They were

undoubtedly human—but what humans! Tall and reedy they were, with enormous barrel

chests, topped by heads which, though really large, appeared insignificant because of

the prodigious chests and because of the huge, sail-like, flapping ears. Their skins were

a peculiarly, lividly pale blue, absolutely devoid of hair; and their lidless eyes, without a

sign of iris, were chillingly horrible in their stark contrast of enormous, glaring black pupil

and ghastly transparent blue eyeball. As the two Terrestrials entered the room, the

beings struggled to their feet and hurried laboriously away. Soon one of them returned,

dressed in an insulating suit, and carrying three sets of head harnesses, connected by

multiplex cables to a large box which he placed upon the floor. He handed the headsets

to the first officer, who in turn placed two of them at the feet of the Terrestrials,

indicating to them that they were to follow his example in placing them upon their heads,

outside the helmets. They did so, and even through the almost perfect insulation and in

spite of the powerful heaters of their suits they felt a touch of frightful cold. The stranger

turned a dial, and the two wanderers from Earth were instantly in full mental

communication with Barkovis, the commander of a space-ship of Titan, the sixth

satellite of Saturn!

“Well, I’ll be . . . say, what is this, anyway?” Steve exclaimed involuntarily, and

Nadia smiled as Barkovis answered with a thought clearer than any spoken words could

have been.

“It is a thought-exchanger. I do not know its fundamental mechanism, since we

did not invent it and since I have had little time to study it. The apparatus, practically as

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