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Spacehounds of IPC by E E. Doc Smith

feet above Brandon’s own six-feet-two, Alcantro and Fedanzo in turn engulfed his

comparatively tiny hand in a thick-shelled paw and lifted briefly the inner lids of

quadruply-shielded eyes. For the Martian skin is not like ours. It is of incredible

thickness; dry, pliable, rubbery, and utterly without sensation: heavily lined with fat and

filled throughout its volume with tiny air-cells which make it an almost perfect non-

conductor of heat and which prevents absolutely the evaporation of the precious

moisture of the body. For the same reasons their huge and cat-like eyes are never

exposed, but look through sealed, clear windows of membrane, over which may be

drawn at will one or all of four pairs of lids—lids transparent, insensible, non-freezeable,

air-spaced insulators. Even the air they exhale carries from their bodies a minimum of

the all-important heat and moisture, for the passages of their nostrils do not lead directly

to the lungs, as do ours. They are merely the intakes for a tortuous system of tubes

comprising a veritable heat-exchanger, so that the air finally expelled is in almost

perfect equilibrium with the incoming supply in temperature and in moisture content. A

grayish tan in color, naked and hairless—though now, out of deference to Terrestrial

conventions, wearing light robes of silk— indifferent alike to any extreme of heat or cold,

light or darkness: such were the two forbidding beings who arose to greet their

Terrestrial friends, then again reclined.

“I suppose that you have been given to drink?” West-fall made sure that they had

been tendered the highest hospitality of Mars.

“We have drunk full deeply, thanks; and it was not really necessary, for we drank

scarcely three weeks since.”

Brandon and Westfall turned then and greeted the two Venerians, as different

from the Martians as they were from the Terrestrials. Of Earthly stature, form, and

strength, yet each was encased in a space-suit stretched like a drumhead, and would

live therein or in the special Venerian rooms of the vessel as long as the journey should

endure. For the atmosphere of Venus is more than twice as dense as ours, is practically

saturated with water-vapor, carries an extremely high concentration of carbon dioxide,

and in their suits and rooms is held at a temperature of one hundred and ten degrees

Fahrenheit, The lenses of their helmets were of heavy, yellowish-red composition,

protecting their dead-white skins and red eyes from all actinic rays—for the Venerian

lives upon the bottom of an everlasting sea of fog and his thin epidermis, utterly without

pigmentation, burns and blisters as frightfully at the least exposure to actinic light as

does ours at the touch of a red-hot iron.

Out in space at last, cruising with the acceleration set at a point bearable for the

Martians, Westfall called the meeting to order and outlined the situation facing them.

Brandon then handed around folders of papers, upon which the Venerians turned the

invisible infra-red beams of the illuminators upon their helmets, thus flooding them with

the “light” to which their retinas were most responsive.

“Here’s the data,” Brandon began. “Sheet I, the equations and fundamentals of

our new cosmic-radiation drive, which renders us independent of power plants.”

“Theoretical or actual?” Pyraz Amonar asked. “We have known that you have

been studying the problem, but have heard nothing of its solution.”

“Actual,” Brandon assured him. “We have been using it for a month, and have

just about all the kinks ironed out. You four are the first, outside our own crew, to hear of

it.”

“Congratulations!” Dol Kenor and the two Martians exclaimed as one, and Kenor

went on: “An accomplishment indeed, to have concluded a research which has baffled

the best minds for so long.”

“‘Concluded’ is good,” Brandon replied. “They all helped—especially you four. But

to go on, the rest of the sheets contain the material sent in by Stevens, and various

deductions and other work based upon that material. Particular emphasis has been

placed upon the forces employed by the Jovians, as we shall call them until we find out

who or what they really are. We will discuss these forces later. For each such force we

have already calculated a screen, and we have also calculated various other forces of

our own, with which we hope to arm ourselves before we reach Ganymede. The

problems facing us are complex, since there are some nine thousand force-bands of the

order in which we are working, each differing from all the others as much as torque

differs from tension, or as much as red differs from green. Therefore we have appealed

to you for help, knowing that we could do but little alone. Alcantro and Fedanzo will

supervise the construction of the generators of the various fields from these

calculations. Dol Kenor will correlate power and electricity to and with the fields. Westfall

and I will help work out the theoretical difficulties as they arise. Pyraz Amonar, who can

devise and build a machine to perform any conceivable mechanical task, will help us all

in the many mechanical difficulties we shall certainly encounter. Discussion of any point

is now in order.”

Step by step and equation after equation the calculations and plans were gone

over, until every detail was clear in each mind. Then the men bent to their tasks; behind

them not only the extraordinarily complete facilities of that gigantic workshop which was

the Sirius, but also the full power of the detachment of police—the very cream of the

young manhood of the planet. Week after toilsome week the unremitting labor went on,

and little by little the massive cruiser of the void became endowed with an offensive and

defensive armament incredible. An armament conceived in the fertile and daring brain

of a sheer genius, guided only by the knowledge that such things were already in

existence somewhere; reduced to working theory by a precise, mathematical logician;

translated into fields of force by the greatest known experts; powered by the

indefatigable efforts of an electrical wizard; made possible by the artful mechanical

devices of the greatest inventor that three worlds had ever known! Thus it was that they

approached Ganymede ready, with blanketing screens full out save for one narrow

working band, and with a keen-eyed observer at every plate. When even the hyper-

critical Westfall was convinced that their preparations were as complete as they could

be made with the information at hand, Brandon directed a beam upon the distant

satellite and tapped off a brief message:

“stevens ganymede will arrive in about ten hours direct carrier beam toward sun

we can detect it and will follow it to wherever you are sirius.”

“ipv sirius,” came the reply, “everything here all x glad to see you thanks newton

and stevens.”

Brandon, at the controls, scanning his screens narrowly, dropped the vessel

down to within a mile or two of the point of origin of Stevens’ carrier beam without

incident; then spoke to Westfall, at his side, with a grin.

“Nice layout the kid’s got down there, Quince. ‘S too bad—don’t look like we’re

going to get any action for our money a-tall. ‘Sa damn shame, too—what’s the use of

wasting it, now that we’ve got it all made?”

“We are not done yet,” cautioned Westfall, and even as he spoke an alarm bell

burst into strident clamor—one of their far-flung detector screens was telling the world

that it had encountered a dangerous frequency. The new ultralights flared instantly

along the line automatically laid down by the detector, and upon the closely-ruled

micrometer screen of Brandon’s desk there glowed in natural color the image of a

globular space-ship, approaching them with terrific speed.

“Men all stationed, of course, Crown?”

“Stationed and ready.” Crowninshield, phones at his ears and microphone at his

lips, was staring intently into his own plate.

“Kinda think I’ll do most of it from here, but you can’t always tell. If they get inside

my guard you all know what to do.”

“All x.”

Expecting another such hollow victory as the other hexan vessel had won over

the defenseless Arcturus the small stranger flashed nearer and nearer that huge and

featureless football. Within range, she launched her flaming plane of energy, but this

time that Jovian sheet of force did not encounter unprotected and non-resisting steel.

Upon the outer ray-screen, flaming white into incandescent defense, the furious bolt

spent itself, and in the instant of the launching of that searing blade of flame Brandon

had gone into action. Switch after switch drove home, and one after another those

frightful fields of force, those products of the mightiest minds of three planets, were

hurled out against the tiny Jovian sphere. Driven as they were by the millions upon

millions of horse-power stored in the accumulators of the Sirius they formed a

coruscating spherical shell of intolerable energy all around the enemy vessel; but even

their prodigious force was held at bay by the powerful defensive screens of the smaller

space-ship. But attack the Jovian could not, every resource at her command being

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Categories: E.E Doc Smith
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