'I'd shut down two seventeen-and the whole hush-hush end -until we can get our records straight and our death-rate down to the old ten-year average. That's the only way we can be really safe.'

'Shut down! The way they're pushing us for production? Don't be an idiot-the chief would toss us both down the chute.'

'Oh, I don't mean without permission. Talk him into it. It'd be best for everybody, over the long pull, believe me.'

'Not a chance. He'd blow his stack. If we can't dope out something better than that, we go on as is.'

'The next-best thing would be to use some new form of death to clean up our books.'

'Wonderful!' Graves snorted contemptuously. 'What would we add to what we've got now-bubonic plague?'

'A loose atomic vortex.'

'Wh-o-o-o-sh!' The fat man deflated, then came back up, gasping for air. 'Man, you're completely nuts! nuts! There's only one on the planet, and it's ... or do you mean ... but There's only one on the planet, and it's ... or do you mean ... but n.o.body n.o.body ever ever 28.29.touched one of those things off deliberately ... can it be done?'

'Yes. It isn't simple, but we of the College of Radiation know how-theoretically-the transformation can be made to occur. It has never been done because it has been impossible to extinguish the things; but now Neal Cloud is putting them out. The fact that the idea is new makes it all the better.'

'I'll say so. Neat ... very very neat.' Graves' agile and cunning brain figuratively licked its chops. 'Certain of our employees will presumably have been upon an outing in the upper end of the valley when this terrible accident takes place?' neat.' Graves' agile and cunning brain figuratively licked its chops. 'Certain of our employees will presumably have been upon an outing in the upper end of the valley when this terrible accident takes place?'

'Exactly-enough of them to straighten out our books. Then, later, we can dispose of undesirables as they appear. Vortices are absolutely unpredictable, you know. People can die of radiation or of any one of a mixture of various toxic gases and the vortex will take the blame.'

'And later on, when it gets dangerous, Storm Cloud can blow it out for us,' Graves gloated. 'But we won't want him for a long, long time!'

'No, but we'll report it and ask for him the hour it happens ... use your head, Graves!' He silenced the manager's anguished howl of protest. 'Anybody who gets one wants it killed as soon as possible, but here's the joker. Cloud has enough Cla.s.s-A-double-prime-urgent demands on file already to keep him busy from now on, so we won't be able to get him for a long, long time. See?'

'I see. Nice, Doc. ... very, very very nice. But I'll have the boys keep an eye on Cloud just the same.' nice. But I'll have the boys keep an eye on Cloud just the same.'

At about this same time two minor cogs of TPI's vast machine sat blissfully, arms around each other, on a rustic seat improvised from rocks, branches, and leaves. Below them, almost under their feet, was a den of highly venomous snakes, but neither man or girl saw them. Before them, also unperceived, was a magnificent view of valley and stream and mountain.

All they saw, however, was each other-until their attention was wrenched to a man who was climbing toward them with the aid of a thick club which he used as a staff.

'Oh ... Bob!' The girl stared briefly; then, with a half-articulate moan, shrank even closer against her lover's side.

Ryder, left arm tightening around the girl's waist, felt with his right hand for a club of his own and tensed his muscles, for the climbing man was completely mad.

His breathing was ... horrible. Mouth tight-clamped, despite his terrific exertion, he was sniffing- sniffing-sniffing loathsomely, l.u.s.tfully, each whistling inhalation filling his lungs to bursting. He exhaled explosively, as though begrudging the second of time required to empty himself of air. Wide-open eyes glaring fixedly ahead he blundered upward, paying no attention whatever to his path. He tore through clumps of th.o.r.n.y growth; he stumbled and fell over logs and stones; he caromed away from boulders; as careless of the needles which tore clothing and skin as of the rocks which bruised his flesh to the bone. He struck a great tree and bounced; felt his frenzied way around the obstacle and back into his original line.

He struck the gate of the pen immediately beneath the two appalled watchers and stopped. He moved to the right and paused, whimpering in anxious agony. Back to the gate and over to the left, where he stopped and howled. Whatever the frightful compulsion was, whatever he sought, he could not deviate enough from his line to go around the pen. He looked, then, and for the first time saw the gate and the fence and the ophidian inhabitants of the den. They did not matter. Nothing mattered. He fumbled at the lock, then furiously attacked it and the gate and the fence with his club-fruitlessly. He tried to climb the fence, but failed. He tore off his shoes and socks and, by dint of jamming toes and ringers ruthlessly into the meshes, he began to climb.

No more than he had minded the thorns and the rocks did he mind the eight strands of viciously-barbed wire surmounting that fence; he did not wince as the inch-long steel fangs bit into arms and legs and body. He did, however, watch the snakes. He took pains to drop into an area temporarily clear of them, and he pounded to death the half-dozen serpents bold enough to bar his path.

Then, dropping to the ground, he writhed and scuttled about; sniffing ever harder; nose plowing the ground. He halted; dug his bleeding fingers into the hard soil; thrust his nose into the hole; inhaled tremendously. His body writhed, trembled, shuddered uncontrollably, then stiffened convulsively into a supremely ecstatic rigidity utterly horrible to see.

The terribly labored breathing ceased. The body collapsed bonelessly, even before the snakes crawled up and struck and 30.31.struck and struck.

Jacqueline Comstock saw very little erf the outrageous performance. She screamed once, shut both eyes, and, twisting about within the man's encircling arm, burrowed her face into his left shoulder.

Ryder, however-white-faced, set-jawed, sweating-watched the thing to its ghastly end. When it was over he licked his lips and swallowed twice before he could speak.

'It's all over now dear-no danger now,' he managed finally to say. 'We'd better go. We ought to turn in an alarm ,.. make a report or something."

'Oh, I can't, Bob-I can't!' she sobbed. 'If I open my eyes, I just know I'll look, and if I look I'll ... I'll simply turn inside out!'

'Hold everything, Jackie! Keep your eyes shut. I'll pilot you and tell you when we're out of sight.'

More than half carrying his companion, Ryder set off down the rocky trail. Out of sight of what had happened, the girl opened her eyes and they continued their descent in a more usual, more decorous fashion until they met a man hurrying upward.

'Oh, Dr. Fairchild! There was a ...' But the report which Ryder was about to make was unnecessary; the alarm had already been given.

'I know,' the scientist puffed. 'Stop! Stay exactly where you are!' He jabbed a finger emphatically downward to anchor the young couple in the spot the occupied. 'Don't talk-don't say a word until I get back!'

Fairchild returned after a time, unhurried and completely at ease. He did not ask the shaken couple if they had seen what had happened. He knew.

'Bu ... buh... but, doctor,' Ryder began. 'Keep still-don't talk at all.' Fairchild ordered, bruskly. Then, in an ordinary conversational tone, he went on: 'Until we have investigated this extraordinary occurrence thoroughly- sifted it to the bottom-the possibility of sabotage and spying cannot be disregarded. As the only eye-witnesses, your reports will be exceedingly valuable; but you must not say a word until we are in a place which / know know is proof against any and all spy-rays. Do you understand?" 'Oh! Yes, we understand.' is proof against any and all spy-rays. Do you understand?" 'Oh! Yes, we understand.'

32.'Pull yourselves together, then. Act unconcerned, casual; particularly when we get to the Administration Building. Talk about the weather-or, better yet, about the honeymoon you are going to take on Chickladoria.'

Thus there was nothing visibly unusual about the group of three which strolled into the building and into Graves' private office. The fat man raised an eyebrow.

'I'm taking them to the private laboratory,' Fairchild said, as he touched the yellow b.u.t.ton and led the two toward the private elevator. 'Frankly, young folks, I am a scared-yes, a badly scared man."

This statement, so true and yet so misleading, resolved the young couple's inchoate doubts. Entirely unsuspectingly, they followed the Senior Radiationist into the elevator and, after it had stopped, along a corridor. They paused as he unlocked and opened a door; they stepped unquestioningly into the room at his gesture. He did not, however, follow them in. Instead, the heavy metal slab slammed shut, cutting off Jackie's piercing shriek of fear.

'You might as well cut out the racket,' came from a speaker in the steel ceiling of the room. 'n.o.body can hear you but me."

'But Mr. Graves, I thought ... Dr. Fairchild told us ... we were going to tell him about...'

'You're going to tell n.o.body nothing. You saw too much and know too much, that's all.'

'Oh, that's that's it!' Ryder's mind reeled as some part of the actual significance of what he had seen struck home. 'But listen! Jackie didn't see anything-she had her eyes shut all the time -and doesn't know anything. You don't want to have the murder of such a girl as it!' Ryder's mind reeled as some part of the actual significance of what he had seen struck home. 'But listen! Jackie didn't see anything-she had her eyes shut all the time -and doesn't know anything. You don't want to have the murder of such a girl as she she is on your mind, I know. Let her go and she'll never say a word-we'll both swear to it-or you could...' is on your mind, I know. Let her go and she'll never say a word-we'll both swear to it-or you could...'

'Why? Just because she's got a face and a shape?' The fat man sneered. 'No soap, Junior. She's not that much of a ...' He broke off as Fairchild entered his office.

'Well, how about it? How bad is it?' Graves demanded.

'Not bad at all. Everything's under control.'

'Listen, doctor!' Ryder pleaded. 'Surely you don't want to murder Jackie here in cold blood? I was just suggesting to Graves that he could get a therapist...'

'Save your breath,' Fairchild ordered. 'We have important 33.things to to think about. You two die.' think about. You two die.'

'But why?' Ryder cried. He could as yet perceive only a fraction of the tremendous truth. 'I tell you, it's ...'

'We'll let you guess," said Fairchild.

Shock upon shock had been too much for the girl's overstrained nerves. She fainted quietly and Ryder eased her down to the cold steel floor.

'Can't you give her a better cell than this?' he protested then. 'There's no ... it isn't decent!' decent!'

'You'll find food and water, and that's enough.' Graves laughed coa.r.s.ely. 'You won't live long, so don't worry about conveniences. But keep still. If you want to know what's going on, you can listen, but one more word out of you and I cut the circuit. Go ahead, Doc, with what you were going to say.'

'There was a fault in the rock. Very small, but a little of the finest smoke seeped through. Barney must have been a sniffer before to be able to smell the trace of the stuff that was drifting down the hill. I'm having the whole cave tested with a leak-detector and sealed bottle-tight. The record can stand it that Barney-he was a snake-tender, you know-died of snake-bite. That's almost the truth, too, by the way.'

'Fair enough. Now, how about these two?'

'Um ... m. We've got to hold the risk at absolute minimum.' Fairchild pondered briefly. 'We can't disintegrate them this month, that's sure. They've got to be found dead, and our books are full. We'll have to keep them alive-where they are now is as good a place as any-for a week.'

'Why alive? We've kept stiffs in cold storage before now."

'Too chancey. Dead tissues change too much. You weren't courting investigation then; now we are. We've got to keep our noses clean. How about this? They couldn't wait any longer and got married today. You, big-hearted philanthropist that you are, told them they could take their two weeks vacation now for a honeymoon-you'd square it with their department heads. They come back in about ten days, to get settled; go up the valley to see the vortex; and out. Anything in that set-up we can't fake a cover for.'

'It looks perfect to me. We'll let 'em enjoy life for ten days, right where they are now. Hear that, Ryder?'

'Yes, you pot-bellied ...'

The fat man snapped a switch.

34.It is not necessary to go into the details of the imprisonment. Doggedly and skillfully though he tried, Ryder could open up no avenue of escape or of communication; and Jacqueline, facing the inevitability of death, steadied down to meet it. She was a woman. In minor crises she had shrieked and had hidden her face and had fainted: but in this ultimate one she drew from the depths of her woman's soul not only the power to overcome her own weakness, but also an extra something with which to sustain and fortify her man.

35.

4: 'Storm' Cloud on Deka

In the vortex control laboratory on Tellus, Cloud had just gone into Philip Strong's office.

'No trouble?' the Lensman asked, after greetings had been exchanged.

'Uh-huh. Simple as blowing out a match. You quit worrying about me long ago, didn't you?"

'Pretty much, except for the impossibility of training anybody else to do it. We're still working on that angle, though. You're looking fit.'

He was. He carried no scars-the Phillips treatment had taken care of that. His face looked young and keen; his hard-schooled, resilient body was in surprisingly fine condition for that of a , man crowding forty so nearly. He no longer wore his psychic trauma visibly; it no longer obtruded itself between him and those with whom he worked; but in his own mind he was sure sure that it still was, and always would be, there. But the Lensman, studying him narrowly-and, if the truth must be known, using his Lens as well-was that it still was, and always would be, there. But the Lensman, studying him narrowly-and, if the truth must be known, using his Lens as well-was not not sure, and was well content. sure, and was well content.

'Not bad for an old man, Phil. I could whip a wildcat, and spot him one bite and two scratches. But what I came in here for, as you may have suspected, is-where do I go from here? Spica or Rigel or Canopus? They're the worst, aren't they?'

'Rigel's is probably the worst in property damage and urgency. Before we decide, though, I wish you'd take a good look at this data from Dekanore III. See if you see what I do.'

'Huh? Dekanore III?' Cloud was surprised. 'No trouble there, is there? They've only got one, and it's 'way down in Cla.s.s Z somewhere.'

'Two now. It's the new one I'm talking about. It's acting funny-d.a.m.ned funny.' funny.'

Cloud went through the data, brow furrowed in concentration; then sketched three charts and frowned, 'I see what you mean. "d.a.m.ned "d.a.m.ned funny" is right. The toxicity is too steady, but at the same time the composition of the effluvium is too varied. Inconsistent. However, there's no real attempt at a gamma a.n.a.lysis-nowhere near enough data for one-this funny" is right. The toxicity is too steady, but at the same time the composition of the effluvium is too varied. Inconsistent. However, there's no real attempt at a gamma a.n.a.lysis-nowhere near enough data for one-this could could be right; they're so utterly unpredictable. The be right; they're so utterly unpredictable. The 36.observers were inexperienced, I take it, with medical and chemical bias?"

'Check. That's the way I read it.'

'Well, I'll say this much-I never saw a gamma chart that would accept half of this stuff, and I can't even imagine what the sigma curve would look like. Boss, what say I skip over there and get us a full reading on that baby before she goes orthodox -or, should I say, orthodoxly unorthodox?'

'However you say it, that's my thought exactly; and we have a good exuse for giving it priority. It's killing more people than all three of the bad ones together.'

'If I can't fix the toxicity with exciters I'll throw a solid cordon around it to keep people away. I won't blow it it out, though, until I find out why it's acting so-if it is. Clear ether, chief, I'm practically there!' out, though, until I find out why it's acting so-if it is. Clear ether, chief, I'm practically there!'

It did not take long to load Cloud's flitter aboard a Dekanore-bound liner. Half-way there however, an alarm rang out and the dread word 'Pirates!' resounded through the ship.

Consternation reigned, for organized piracy had disappeared with the fall of the Council of Boskone. Furthermore, this was not in any sense a treasure ship; she was an ordinary pa.s.senger liner.

She had had little enough warning-her communications officer had sent out only a part of his first distress call when the blanketing interference jammed his channels. The pirate- a first-cla.s.s superdreadnought-flashed up and a visual beam drove in.

'Go inert,' came the terse command. 'We're coming aboard.'

'Are you completely crazy?' The liner's captain was surprised and disgusted, rather than alarmed. 'If not, you've got the wrong ship. Everything aboard-including any ransom you could get for our pa.s.senger list-wouldn't pay your expenses."

'You wouldn't know, of course, that you're carrying a package of Lonabarian jewelry, or would you?' The question was elaborately skeptical.

'I know d.a.m.ned well I'm not.' not.'

'We'll take the package you haven't haven't got, then!' the pirate got, then!' the pirate snapped. 'Go inert and open up, or I'll do it for you-like this.'

A needle-beam lashed out and expired. 'That was through one of your holds. The next one will be through your control room.'

Resistance being out of the question, the liner went inert.

37.While the intrinsic velocities of the two vessels were being matched, the pirate issued further instructions.

'All officers now in the control room, stay there. All other officers, round up all pa.s.sengers and herd them into the main saloon. Anybody that acts up or doesn't do exactly what he's told will be blasted.'

The pirates boarded. One squad went to the control room. Its leader, seeing that the communications officer was still trying to drive a call through the blanket of interference, beamed him down without a word. At this murder the captain and four or five other officers went for their guns and there was a brief but b.l.o.o.d.y battle. There were too many pirates.

A larger group invaded the main saloon. Most of them went through, only half a dozen or so posting themselves to guard the pa.s.sengers. One of the guards, a hook-nosed individual wearing consciously an aura of authority, spoke.

'Take it easy, folks, and n.o.body'll get hurt. If any of you've got guns, don't go for 'em. That's a specialty that...'

One of his DeLameters flamed briefly. Cloud's right arm, almost to the shoulder, vanished. The man behind him dropped- in two different places.

'Take it easy, I said,' the pirate chief went calmly on. 'You can tie that arm up, fella, if you want to. It was in line with that guy who was trying to pull a gun. You nurse over there-take him to sick-bay and fix up his wing. If anybody stops you tell 'em Number One said to. Now, the rest of you, watch your step. I'll cut down every d.a.m.n one of you that so much as looks like he wanted to start something.' They obeyed.

In a few minutes the looting parties returned to the saloon. 'Did you get it, Six?' 'Yeah. In the mail, like you said.' 'The safe?'

'Sure. Wasn't much in it, but not too bad, at that.' 'QX. Control room! QX?'

'Ten dead,' the intercom blatted in reply. 'Otherwise QX.' 'Fuse the panels?' 'Natch.' 'Let's go!'

They went. Their vessel flashed away. The pa.s.sengers rushed to their staterooms. Then: 'Doctor Cloud!' came from the speaker. 'Doctor Neal Cloud! Control room calling Doctor Cloud!' 'Cloud speaking.'

'Report to the control room, please." , 'Oh-excuse me-I didn't know you were wounded,' the officer apologized as he saw the bandaged stump and the white, sweating face. 'You'd better go to bed.' 'Doing nothing wouldn't help. What did you want me for?' 'Do you know anything about communicators?' 'A little-what a nucleonics man has to know.' 'Good. They killed all our communications officers and blasted the panels, even in the lifeboats. You can't do much with your left hand, of course, but you may be able to boss the job of rigging up a spare.'