Campbell, John W Jr - The Black Star Passes

VIP免费
2024-12-07 0 0 709.87KB 78 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
THE BLACK STAR PASSES
Copyright, 1953, by John W. Campbell, Jr.
Copyright, 1930, by Experimenter Publications, Inc.
An Ace Book, by arrangement with the author.
CONTENTS
Introduction 7
BOOK ONE Piracy Preferred 11
BOOK TWO Solarite 76
BOOK THREE The Black Star Passes 161
Second Ace printing: August, 1972 Printed in U.S.A.
INTRODUCTION
THESE STORIES WERE WRITTEN nearly a quarter of a century ago, for the old Amazing Stories magazine. The essence
of any magazine is not its name, but its philosophy, its purpose. That old Amazing Stories is long since gone; the
magazine of the same name today is as different as the times today are different from the world of 1930.
Science-fiction was new, in 1930; atomic energy was a dream we believed in, and space-travel was something we
tried to understand better. Today, science-fiction has become a broad field, atomic energy—despite the feelings of
many present adults!—is no dream. (Nor is it a nightmare; it is simply a fact, and calling it a nightmare is another
form of effort to push it out of reality.)
In 1930, the only audience for science-fiction was among those who were still young enough in spirit to be willing to
hope and speculate on a new and wider future —and in 1930 that meant almost nothing but teen-agers. It meant the
brightest group of teen-agers, youngsters who were willing to play with ideas and understandings of physics and
chemistry and astronomy that most of their contemporaries considered "too hard work."
I grew up with that group; the stories I wrote over the years, and, later, the stories I bought for Astounding Science
Fiction changed and grew more mature too. Astounding Science Fiction today has many of the audience that read
those early stories; they're not high school and college students any more, of course, but professional
engineers, technologists and researchers now. Naturally, for them we need a totally different kind of story. In
growing with them, I and my work had to lose much of the enthusiastic scope that went with the earlier science
fiction.
When a young man goes to college, he is apt to say, "I want to be a scientist," or "I want to be an engineer," but his
concepts are broad and generalized. Most major technical schools, well knowing this, have the first year course for
all students the same. Only in the second and subsequent years does specialization start.
By the sophomore year, a student may say, "I want to be a chemical engineer."
At graduation, he may say, "I'm going into chemical engineering construction."
Ten years later he may explain that he's a chemical engineer specializing in the construction of corrosion-resistant
structures, such as electroplating baths and pickling tanks for stainless steel.
Year by year, his knowledge has become more specialized, and much deeper. He's better and better able to do the
important work the world needs done, but in learning to do it, he's necessarily lost some of the broad and enthusiastic
scope he once had.
These are early stories of the early days of science-fiction. Radar hadn't been invented; we missed that idea. But
while these stories don't have the finesse of later work —they have a bounding enthusiasm that belongs with a young
field, designed for and built by young men. Most of the writers of those early stories were, like myself, college
students. (Piracy Preferred was written when I was a sophomore at M.I.T.)
For old-timers in science-fiction—these are typical of the days when the field was starting. They've got a fine
flavor of our own younger enthusiasm.
For new readers of science-fiction—these have the stuff that laid the groundwork of today's work, they're the stories
that were meant for young imaginations, for people who wanted to think about the world they had to build in the
years to come.
Along about sixteen to nineteen, a young man has to decide what is, for him, the Job That Needs Doing—and get
ready to get in and pitch. If he selects well, selects with understanding and foresight, he'll pick a job that does need
doing, one that will return rewards in satisfaction as well as money. No other man can pick that for him; he must
choose the Job that he feels fitting.
Crystal balls can be bought fairly reasonably—but they don't work well. History books can be bought even more
cheaply, and they're moderately reliable. (Though necessarily filtered through the cultural attitudes of the man who
wrote them.) But they don't work well as predicting machines, because the world is changing too rapidly.
The world today, for instance, needs engineers desperately There are a lot of jobs that the Nation would like to get
done that can't even be started; not enough engineers available.
Fifty years ago the engineering student was a sort of Second Class Citizen of the college campus. Today the Liberal
Arts are fighting for a come-back, the pendulum having swung considerably too far in the other direction. So
science-fiction has a very real function to the teenagers; it presents varying ideas of what the world in which he will
live his adult life will be interested in.
This is 1953. My son will graduate in 1955. The period of his peak earning power should be when he's about forty to
sixty—about 1970, say, to 1990. With the progress being made in understanding of health and physical
vigor, it's apt to run beyond 2000 A.D., however.
Anyone want to bet that people will be living in the same general circumstances then? That the same general social
and cultural and material standards will apply?
I have a hunch that the history books are a poor way of planning a life today—and that science-fiction comes a
lot closer.
There's another thing about science-fiction yams that is quite conspicuous; it's so difficult to pick out the villains. It
might have made quite a change in history if the ballads and tales of the old days had been a little less sure of who
the villains were. Read the standard boy's literature of forty years ago; tales of Crusaders who were always right, and
Saracens who were always wrong. (The same Saracens who taught the Christians to respect the philosophy of the
Greeks, and introduced them to the basic ideas of straight, self-disciplined thinkingl)
Life's much simpler in a thatched cottage than in a dome on the airless Moon, easier to understand when the Villains
are all pure black-hearted villains, and the Heroes are all pure White Souled Heroes. Just look how simple history is
compared with science-fiction! It's simple—but
is it good?
These early science-fiction tales explored the Universe; they were probings, speculations, as to where we could go.
What we could do.
They had a sweep and reach and exuberance that belonged.
They were fun, too ....
JOHN W. CAMPBELL, JR. Mountainside, N.J. April, 1953
BOOK ONE
PIRACY PREFERRED PROLOGUE
HIGH m THE DEEP BLUE OF THE afternoon sky rode a tiny speck of glistening metal, scarcely visible in the glare of the
sun. The workers on the machines below glanced up for a moment, then back to their work, though little enough it
was on these automatic cultivators. Even this minor diversion was of interest in the dull monotony of green. These
endless fields of castor bean plants had to be cultivated, but with the great machines that did the work it required but
a few dozen men to cultivate an entire county.
The passengers in the huge plane high above them gave little thought to what passed below, engrossed with their
papers or books, or engaged in casual conversation. This monotonous trip was boring to most of them. It seemed a
waste of time to spend six good hours in a short 3,500 mile trip. There was nothing to do, nothing to see, except a
slowly passing landscape ten miles below. No details could be distinguished, and the steady low throb of the engines,
the whirring of the giant propellers, the muffled roar of the air, as it rushed by, combined to form a soothing lullaby
of power. It was all right for pleasure seekers and vacationists, but business men were in a hurry.
The pilot of the machine glanced briefly at the instruments, wondered vaguely why he had to be there at all, then
turned, and leaving the pilot room in charge of his assistant, went down to talk with the chief engineer.
His vacation began the first of July, and as this was the last of June, he wondered what would have happened if he
had done as he had been half inclined to do—quit the trip and let the assistant take her through. It would have been
simple—just a few levers to manipulate, a few controls to set, and the instruments would have taken her up to ten or
eleven miles, swung her into the great westward air current, and leveled her off at five hundred and sixty or so an
hour toward 'Frisco'. They would hold her on the radio beam better than he ever could. Even the landing would have
been easy. The assistant had never landed a big plane, but he knew the routine, and the instruments would have done
the work. Even if he hadn't been there, ten minutes after they had reached destination, it would land automatically—
if an emergency pilot didn't come up by that time in answer to an automatic signal.
He yawned and sauntered down the hall. He yawned again, wondering what made him so sleepy.
He slumped limply to the floor and lay there breathing ever more and more slowly.
The officials of the San Francisco terminus of The Transcontinental Airways company were worried. The great
Transcontinental express had come to the field, following the radio beam, and now it was circling the field with its
instruments set on the automatic signal for an emergency pilot. They were worried and with good reason, for this
flight carried over 900,000 dollar's worth of negotiable securities. But what could attack one of those giant ships? It
would take a small army to overcome the
crew of seventy and the three thousand passengers!
The great ship was 4anding gently now, brought in by the emergency pilot. The small field car sped over to the plane
rapidly. Already the elevator was in place beside it, and as the officials in the car drew up under the giant wing, they
could see the tiny figure of the emergency pilot beckoning to them. Swiftly the portable elevator carried them up to
the fourth level of the ship.
What a sight met their eyes as they entered the main salon! At first glance it appeared that all the passengers lay
sleeping in their chairs. On closer examination it became evident that they were not breathing! The ear could detect
no heartbeat. The members of the crew lay at their posts, as inert as the passengers! The assistant pilot sprawled on
the floor beside the instrument panel—apparently he had been watching the record of the flight. There was no one
conscious—or apparently living—on board!
"Dead! Over three thousand people!" The field manager's voice was hoarse, incredulous. "It's impossible—how
could they have done it? Gas, maybe, drawn in through the ventilator pumps and circulated through the ship. But I
can't conceive of any man being willing to kill three thousand people for a mere million! Did you call a doctor by
radio, Pilot?"
"Yes, sir. He is on his way. There's his car now."
"Of course they will have opened the safe—but let's check anyway. I can only think some madman has done this—
no sane man would be willing to take so many lives for so little." Wearily the men descended the stairs to the mail
room in the hold.
The door'was closed, but the lock of the door was gone, the magnesium-beryllium alloy burned away. They opened
the door and entered. The room seemed in perfect
order. The guard lay motionless in the steel guard chamber at one side; the thick, bullet-proof glass made his outlines
a little blurred, and the color of his face was green —but they knew there too must be that same pallor they had seen
on the other faces. The delicate instruments had brought in the great ship perfectly, but it was freighted with a cargo
of dead!
They entered the room and proceeded to the safe, but it was opened as they had expected. The six-inch tung-sto-
iridium wall had been melted through. Even this unbelievable fact no longer surprised them. They only glanced at
the metal, still too hot to touch, and looked about the room. The bonds had been taken. But now they noticed that
over the mail-clerk's desk there had been fastened a small envelope. On it was printed:
To the Officials of the San Francisco Airport
Inside was a short message, printed in the same sharp, black letters:
Gentlemen:
This plane should land safely. If it doesn't, it is your fault, not mine, for the instruments that it carries should permit
it. The passengers are NOT dead! They have been put in a temporary state of suspended animation. Any doctor can
readily revive them by the injection of seven c.c. of decinormal potassium iodide solution for every 100 pounds of
weight. Do NOT use higher concentrations. Lower concentrations will act more slowly.
You will find that any tendency toward leprosy or cancer will have been destroyed. It will kill any existing cancer,
and cure it in about one week. I have
not experimented with leprosy beyond knowing that it is cured very quickly.
This is an outside job. Don't annoy the passengers with questions.
The gas used cannot be stopped by any material I know of. You can try it with any mask—but don't use the C-32L. It
will react with the gas to kill. I would advise that you try it on an animal to convince yourselves.
I have left stock in my new company to replace the bonds I have taken.
Piracy Incorporated is incorporated under my own laws.
THE PIRATE
On the desk beneath the note was a small package which contained a number of stock certificates. They totalled
$900,000 face value of "Piracy Preferred", the preferred stock of a corporation, "Piracy, Inc."
"Piracy! Pirates in the air!" The field manager forced an unnatural laugh. "In 2126 we have pirates attacking our air
lines. Piracy Preferred! I think I'd prefer the bonds myself. But thank God he did not kill all those people. Doctor,
you look worried! Cheer up. If what this pirate says is true, we can resuscitate them, and they'll be better off for the
experience!"
The doctor shook his head. "I've been examining your passengers. I'm afraid that you'll never be able to bring these
people back to life again, sir. I can't detect any heart action even with the amplifier. Ordinary heart action sounds like
a cataract through this instrument. I can see nothing wrong with the blood; it has not coagulated as I expected, nor is
there any pronounced hydrolysis as yet. But I'm afraid I'll have to write out the death war-
rants for all these men and women. One of the people on that ship was coming to see me. That's how I happened to
be on the field. For her, at least, it may be better so. The poor woman was suffering from an incurable cancer." "In
this case, Doctor, I hope and believe you are wrong. Read this note!"
It was two hours before the work of reviving the passengers could be started. Despite all the laws of physics, their
body temperature had remained constant after it had reached seventy-four, showing that some form of very slow
metabolism was going on. One by one they were put into large electric blankets, and each was given the correct dose
of the salt. The men waited anxiously for results—and within ten minutes of the injection the first had regained
consciousness!
The work went forward steadily and successfully. Every one of the passengers and crew was revived. And the Pirate
had spoken the truth. The woman who had been suffering from cancer was free from pain for the first time in many
months. Later, careful examination proved she was cured!
The papers were issuing extras within five minutes of the time the great plane had landed, and the radio news service
was broadcasting the first "break" in a particularly dead month. During all of June the news had been dead, and now
July had begun with a bang!
With time to think and investigate, the airport officials went over the ship with the Air Guard, using a fine-tooth
comb. It was soon evident that the job had been done from the outside, as the Pirate had said. The emergency pilot
testified that when he entered the ship, he found a small piece of wire securing the air lock from the outside. This had
certainly been put on while the ship was in
flight, and that meant that whoever had done this, had landed on the great shipavith a small plane, had somehow
anchored it, then had entered the plane through the air lock at the ten mile height. He had probably flown across the
path of the plane, leaving a trail of gas in its way to be drawn in through the ventilator pumps. It had been washed
out by the incoming good air later, for the emergency pilot had not been affected.
Now the investigation led them to the mail-room. Despite the refractory nature of the metal, the door had been
opened by melting or burning out the lock. And an opening had been burned into the safe itself I Opened by melting
it through!
A bond shipment was due the next day, and the airline officials planned to be on the watch for it. It would get
through safely, they were sure, for men were put on board in steel chambers hermetically welded behind them, with
oxygen tanks and automatic apparatus sealed within to supply them with clean air. The front of the tanks were
equipped with bullet-proof glass windows, and by means of electrically operated controls the men inside could fire
machine guns. Thus they were protected from the Pirate's gas and able to use their weapons.
The ship was accompanied by a patrol of Air Guardsmen. Yet, despite this, cancer cases were aboard with the hope
of being gassed.
When the plane reached the neighborhood of San Francisco, there had been no sign of an attack. The Pirate might
well retire permanently on a million, if he were alone, as the singular signature indicated; but it seemed much more
probable that he would attempt another attack in any case. Well, that just meant watching all the planes from now on,
a tremendous job for the Air Guard to handle.
The leader of the patrol turned in an easy bank to descend the ten miles to earth, and his planes followed him. Then
suddenly through the communicator came an unmistakable sound. The plane automatically signaling for an
emergency pilot! That could only mean that the plane had been gassed under the very eyes of his men!
The bonds were gone and the passengers gassed, and incredibly, the men in the steel tanks were as thoroughly gassed
as the rest.
The note was brief, and as much to the point as was the absence of the bonds.
To the Officials of the Airport:
Restore as usual. The men in the tanks are asleep also—I said the gas would penetrate any material. It does. A mask
obviously won't do any good. Don't try that C-32L mask. I warn you it will be fatal. My gas reacts to produce a
virulent poison when in contact with the chemicals in the C-32L.
THE PIRATE
.1
ON THE THIRTY-NINTH FLOOR of a large New York apartment two young men were lounging about after a strenuous
game of tennis. The blue tendrils of smoke from their pipes rose slowly, to be drawn away by the efficient ventilating
system. The taller of the two seemed to be doing most of the talking. In the positions they had assumed it would have
been rather difficult to be sure of which was the taller, but Robert Morey was a good four inches taller than Richard
Arcot. Arcot had to suffer under the stigma of "runt" with Morey around—he was only six feet tall.
The chosen occupation of each was physical research, and in that field Aroot could well have called Morey "runt",
for Arcot had only one competitor—his father. In this case it had been "like father, like son". For many years Robert
Arcot had been known as the greatest American physicist, and probably the world's greatest. More recently he had
been known as the father of the world's greatest physicist. Arcot junior was probably one df the most brilliant men
the world had ever seen, and he was aided in all his work by two men who could help him in a way that amplified his
powers a thousand fold. His father and his best friend, Morey, were the complimentary and balancing minds to his
great intelligence. His father had learned through years of work the easiest and best ways of performing the many
difficult feats of laboratory experimentation. Morey could develop the mathematical theory of a hypothesis far more
readily than Arcot could. Morey's mind was more methodical and exact than Arcot's, but Arcot could grasp the broad
details of a problem and get the general method of solution developed with a speed that made it utterly impossible
for his friend even to follow the steps he suggested.
Since Arcot junior's invention of the multiple calculus, many new ramifications of old theories had been attained, and
many developments had become possible.
But the factor that made Arcot so amazingly successful in his line of work was his ability to see practical uses for
things, an ability that is unfortunately lacking in so many great physicists. Had he collected the royalties his
inventions merited, he would have been a billionaire twice or thrice over. Instead he had made contracts on the basis
that the laboratories he owned be kept in condition, and that he be paid a salary that should be whatever he happened
to need. Since he had sold all his inventions to
Transcontinental Airways, he had been able to devote all his time to science, leaving them to manage his finances.
Perhaps it was the fact that he did sell these inventions to Transcontinental that made these lines so successful; but at
any rate, President Arthur Morey was duly grateful, and when his son was able to enter the laboratories he was as
delighted as Arcot.
The two had become boon companions. They worked, played, lived, and thought together.
Just now they were talking about the Pirate. This was the seventh day of his discovery, and he had been growing
steadily more menacing. It was the great Transcontinental Airways that had suffered most repeatedly. Sometimes it
was the San Francisco Flyer that went on without a pilot, sometimes the New York-St. Louis expresses that would
come over the field broadcasting the emergency signal. But always the people were revived with little difficulty, and
each time more of the stock of "Piracy, Inc." was accumulated. The Air Guard seemed helpless. Time and time again
the Pirate slipped in undetected. Each time he convinced them that it was an outside job, for the door was always
sealed from the outside.
"Dick, how do you suppose he gets away with the things he does right under the eyes of those Air Guardsmen? He
must have some system; he does it every time." "I have a vague idea," Arcot answered. "I was going to ask you
today, if your father would let us take passage on the next liner carrying any money. I understand the insurance rates
have been boosted so high that they don't dare to send any cash by air any more. They've resorted to the slow land
routes. Is there any money shipment in
sight?"
Morey shook his head. "No, but I have something that's just as good, if not better, for our purpose. The other day
several men came into Dad's office, to charter a plane to San Francisco, and Dad naturally wondered why they had
been referred to the president of the company. It seems the difficulty was that they wanted to hire the ship so they
could be robbed! A large group of medical men and cancer victims were going for the 'treatment'. Each one of the
twenty-five hundred going was to bring along one hundred dollars. That meant a total of a quarter of a million
dollars, which is to be left on the table. They hoped the Pirate would gas them and thus cure them! Dad couldn't
officially do this, but told them that if there were too many people for the San Francisco express, two sections would
be necessary. I believe they are going on that second section. Only one hundred dollars! A low price for cancer cure!
"Another thing: Dad asked me to tell you that he'd appreciate your help in stopping this ultra-modern pirate. If you
go down to see him in the morning, you'll doubtless be able to make the necessary arrangements."
"I'll do so gladly. I wonder, though, if you know more about this than I do. Did they try that C-32L mask on an
animal?"
The Pirate was telling the truth. They tried it on a dog and he went to sleep forever. But do you have any idea bow
that gas does all it does?"
Now Arcot shook his head. "I don't know what the gas is, but have a lead on how it works. You may know that
carbon monoxide will seep through a solid plate of red-hot steel. That has been known for some three hundred fears
now, and I have to hand it to this Pirate for making ose of it. Even in the war of 2075 they didn't find any practical
application for the principal. He has just found some gas that induces sleep in very low concentrations, and at the
same time is able to penetrate to an even
greater extent than carbon monoxide."
"I was wondering how he stores that stuff," Morey commented. "But I suppose he makes it as fast as he uses it, by
allowing two or more constituents to react. It might well be simple enough to store them separately, and the airstream
blowing past him would carry the gas behind him, permitting him to lay a stream of it in front of the big plane. Is that
about it?"
"That was about what I had figured. One of the things I want to do when I go with that Invalid Special tomorrow is
to get some samples for analysis.
"That's a prety big order, isn't it, Dick? How are you going to handle it, or even get it into your apparatus?"
"Easily enough as far as getting the sample goes. I have already had some sample bottles made. I have one of them in
the lab—excuse me a moment." Arcot left the room, to return a few minutes later with a large aluminum bottle,
tightly closed. 'This bottle has been pumped out to a very good vacuum. I then swept it out with helium gas. Then it
was pumped out again. I hope to take this into some gas-filled region, where the gas will be able to leak in, but the
air won't. When it comes to going out again, the gas will have to fight air pressure, and will probably stay in."
"Hope it works. It would help if we knew what we were bucking."
The next morning Arcot had a long conference with President Morey. At the end of it, he left the office, ascended to
the roof, and climbed into his small helicopter. He rose to the local traffic level, and waiting his chance, broke into
the stream of planes bound for the great airfields over in the Jersey district. A few minutes later he landed on the roof
of the Transcontinental Airways shops,
entered them, and went to the office of the Designing Engineer, John Fuller, a^n old schoolmate. They had been able
to help each other before, for Fuller had not paid as much attention to theoretical physics as he might have, and
though he was probably one of the outstanding aeronautical designers, he often consulted Arcot on the few
theoretical details that he needed. Probably it was Arcot who derived the greatest benefit from this association-, for
the ability of the designer had many times brought his theoretical successes to practical commercial production.
Now, however, he was consulting Fuller, because the plane he was to take that afternoon for San Francisco was to be
slightly changed for him.
He stayed in Fuller's office for the better part of an hour, then returned to the roof and thence to his own roof, where
Morey junior was waiting for him.
"Hello, Dick! I heard from Dad that you were going this afternoon, and came over here. I got your note and I have
the things fixed up here. The plane leaves at one, and it's ten-thirty now. Let's eat lunch and then start."
It was half-past eleven when they reached the flying field. They went directly to the private office which had been
assigned to them aboard the huge plane. It was right next to the mail-room, and through the wall between the two a
small hole had been cut. Directly beneath this hole was a table, on which the two men now set up a small moving
picture camera they had brought with them.
"How many of the gas sample bottles did you bring, Bob?" asked Arcot.
"Jackson had only four ready, so I brought those. I think that will be enough. Have we got that camera properly
placed?"
"Everything's O.K., I believe. Nothing to do now but wait"
Time passed—then they heard a faint whir; the ventilator machinery had started. This drew air in from outside, and
pumped it up to the necessary pressure for breathing in the ship, no matter what the external pressure might be. There
was a larger pump attached similarly to each of the engines to supply it with the necessary oxygen. Any loss in
power by pumping the air in was made up by the lower back pressure on the exhaust. Now the engines were
starting—they could feel the momentary vibration—vibration that would cease as they got under way. They could
visualize the airtight door being closed; the portable elevator backing off, returning to the field house.
Arcot glanced at his watch. "One o'clock. The starting signal is due."
Morey sank back into a comfortable chair. "Well, now we have a nice long wait till we get to San Francisco and
back, Dick, but you'll have something to talk about then!"
"I hope so, Bob, and I hope we can return on the midnight plane from San Francisco, which will get us in at nine
o'clock tomorrow morning, New York time. I wish you'd go right to your father's office and ask him over to our
place for supper, and see if Fuller can come too. I think we'll be able to use that molecular controller on this job; it's
almost finished, and with it we'll need a good designing engineer. Then our little movie show will no doubt be of
interest!"
There was a low rumble that quickly mounted to a staccato roar as the great propellers began whirling and the
engines took up the load. The ground began to flash behind them; then suddenly, as flying speed was reached, there
was a slight start, the roaring bark of the engine took on a deeper tone, the rocking stopped and the ground dropped
away. Like some mighty wild bird, the
plane was in the air, a graceful, sentient thing, wheeling in a great circle as it headed for San Francisco. Now the
plane climbed steadily in a long bank; up, up, up she went, and gradually the terrific roar of the engine died to a low
throbbing hum as the low pressure of the air silenced the noise.
Below them the giant city contracted as the great ship rode higher. The tiny private helicops were darting about
below them like streams of nigh invisible individuals, creeping black lines among the buildings of the city. The
towering buildings shone in the noon sun in riotous hues as the colored tile facing reflected the brilliant sunlight with
glowing warmth of color.
It was a city of indescribable beauty now. It was one of the things that made this trip worthwhile.
Now the shining city dropped behind them, and only the soft green of the Jersey hills, and the deep purple-black of
the sky above were visible. The sun blazed high in the nigh-black heavens, and in the rarefied air, there was so little
diffusion that the corona was readily visible with the aid of a smoked glass. Around the sun, long banners in space,
the Zodiacal light gleamed dimly. Here and there some of the brighter stars winked in the dark sky.
Below them the landscape swung slowly by. Even to these men who had made the trip dozens of times, the sight was
fascinating, inspiring. It was a spectacle which bad never been visible before the development of these •uperplanes.
While flying observatories had been made [that had taken photographs at heights of fifteen miles, where the air was
so rarefied that the plane had to travel close to eight hundred miles an hour to remain aloft.
Already ahead of them Arcot and Morey could see the (great splotch of color that was Chicago, the mightiest city ml
Earth. Situated as it was in the heart of the North
American continent, with great water and ground landing facilities and broad plains about it, it made a perfect
airport. The sea no longer meant much, for it was now only a source of power, recreation and food. Ships were no
longer needed. Planes were faster and more economical; hence seacoast cities had declined in importance. With its
already great start toward ascendancy, Chicago had rapidly forged ahead, as the air lines developed with the great
superplanes. The European planes docked here, and it was the starting point of the South American lines. But now,
as they swung above it, the glistening walls of soft-colored tiles made it a great mass of changing, flashing color
beneath them. Now they could see a great air liner, twice the size of their plane, taking off for Japan, its six giant
propellers visible only as flashing blurs as it climbed up toward them. Then it was out of sight.
It was over the green plains of Nebraska that the Pirate usually worked, so there the men became more and more
alert, waiting for the first sign of abnormal drowsiness. They sat quietly, not talking, listening intently for some new
note, but knowing all the while that any sound the Pirate might make would be concealed by the whirring roar of the
air sweeping past the giant airfoils of the
plane.
Suddenly Arcot realized he was unbearably sleepy. He glanced drowsily toward Morey who was already lying down.
He found it a tremendous effort-of the will to make himself reach up and close the switch that started the little
camera whirring almost noiselessly. It seemed he never pulled his arm back—he just—lay there—and—
A white uniformed man was bending over him as he opened his eyes. To one side of him he saw Morey smiling
down at him.
"You're a fine guard, Arcot. I thought you were going
to stay awake and watch them!"
"Oh, no, I left a rrwich more efficient watchman! I* didn't go to sleep—I'm willing to bet!"
"No, it may not have gone to sleep, but the doctor here tells me it has gone somewhere else. It wasn't found in our
room when we woke up. I think the Pirate found it and confiscated it. All our luggage, including the gas sample
bottles, is gone."
"That's all right. I arranged for that. The ship was brought down by an emergency pilot and he had instructions from
father. He took care of the luggage so that no member of the pirate's gang could steal it. There might have been some
of them in the ground crew. They'll be turned over to us as soon as we see the emergency man. I don't have to lie
here any longer, do I, doctor?"
"No, Dr. Arcot, you're all right now. I would suggest that for the next hour or so you take it easy to let your heart get
used to beating again. It stopped for some two hours, you know. You'll be all right, however."
II
FIVE MEN WERE SEATED ABOUT the Morey library, discussing the results of the last raid, in particular as related to
Arcot and Morey. Fuller, and President Morey, as well as Dr. Arcot, senior, and the two young men themselves,
were there. They had consistently refused to tell what their trip had revealed, saying that pictures would speak for
them. Now they turned their attention to a motion picture projector and screen that Arcot junior had just set up. At
his direction the room was darkened; and he started the projector. At once they were looking at the
three dimensional image of the mail-room aboard the air liner.
Arcot commented: "I have cut out a lot of useless film, and confined the picture to essentials. We will now watch the
pirate at work."
Even as he spoke they saw the door of the mail-room open a bit, and then, to their intense surprise, it remained open
for a few seconds, then closed. It went through all the motions of opening to admit someone, yet no one entered!
"Your demonstration doesn't seem to show much yet, son. In fact, it shows much less than I had expected," said the
senior Arcot. "But the door seemed to open easily. I thought they locked them!"
"They did, but the pirate just burned holes in them, so to save property they leave 'em unlocked."
Now the scene seemed to swing a bit as the plane hit an unusually bad air bump, and through the window they
caught a glimpse of one of the circling Air Guardsmen. Then suddenly there appeared in the air within the room a
point of flame. It hung in the air above the safe for an instant, described a strangely complicated set of curves; then,
as it hung for an instant in mid-air, it became a great flare. In an instant this condensed to a point of intensely brilliant
crimson fire. This described a complex series of curves and touched the top of the safe. In an inconceivably short
time, the eight-inch thickness of tungsto-iridium alloy flared incandescently and began to flow sluggishly. A large
circle of the red flame sprang out to surround the point of brilliance, and this blew the molten metal to one side, in a
cascade of sparks.
In moments, the torch had cut a large disc of metal nearly free; seemingly on the verge of dropping into the safe.
Now the flame left the safe, again retracting itself in
that uncanny manner, no force seeming either to supply it with fuel or to support it thus, though it burned steadily,
and worked rapidly and efficiently. Now, in mid-air, it hung for a second.
"I'm going to work the projector for a few moments by hand so that you may see this next bit of film." Arcot moved
a small switch and the machine blinked, giving a strange appearance to the seemingly solid images that were thrown
on the screen.
The pictures seemed to show the flame slowly descending till it again touched the metal. The tungsto-iridium glowed
briefly; then, as suddenly as the extinguishing of a light, the safe was gone! It had disappeared into thin air! Only the
incandescence of the metal and the flame itself were visible.
"It seems the pirate has solved the secret of invisibility. No wonder the Air Guardsmen couldn't find him!" exclaimed
Arcot, senior.
The projector had been stopped exactly on the first frame, showing the invisibility of the safe. Then Arcot backed it
up.
"True, Dad," he said, "but pay special attention to this next frame."
Again there appeared a picture of the room, the window beyond, the mail clerk asleep at his desk, everything as
before, except that where the safe had been, there was a shadowy, half visible safe, the metal glowing brightly.
Beside it there was visible a shadowy man, holding the safe with a shadowy bar of some sort. And through both of
them the frame of the window was perfectly visible, and, ironically, an Air Guardsman plane.
"It seems that for an instant his invisibility failed here. Probably it was the contact with the safe that caused it. What
do you think, Dad?" asked Arcot, junior.
"It does seem reasonable. I can't see off-hand how his invisibility is even theoretically possible. Have you any
ideas?"
"Well, dad, I have, but I want to wait till tomorrow night to demonstrate them. Let's adjourn this meeting, if you can
all come tomorrow."
The next evening, however, it seemed that it was Arcot himself who could not be there. He asked Morey, junior, to
tell them he would be there later, when he had finished in the lab.
Dinner was over now, and the men were waiting rather impatiently for Arcot to come. They heard some noise in the
corridor, and looked up, but no one entered.
"Morey," asked Fuller, "what did you learn about that gas the pirate was using? I remember Arcot said he would
have some samples to analyze."
"As to the gas, Dick found out but little more than we had already known. It is a typical organic compound, one of
the metal radical type, and contains one atom of thorium. This is a bit radioactive, as you know, and Dick thinks that
this may account in part for its ability to suspend animation. However, since it was impossible to determine the
molecular weight, he could not say what the gas was, save that the empirical formula was CaaTH Hs9O27N5. It broke
down at a temperature of only 89° centigrade. The gases left consisted largely of methane, nitrogen, and methyl
ether. Dick is still in the dark as to what the gas is." He paused, then exclaimed: "Look over there!"
The men turned with one accord toward the opposite end of the room, looked, and seeing nothing particularly
unusual, glanced back rather puzzled. What they then saw, or better, failed to see, puzzled them still
more. Morey had disappeared!
"Why-why where~ohhh! Quick work, Dick!" The senior Arcot began laughing heartily, and as his astonished and
curious companions looked toward him, he stopped and called out, "Come on, Dick! We want to see you now. And
tell us how it's done! I rather think Mr. Morey here— I mean the visible one—is still a bit puzzled."
There was a short laugh from the air—certainly' there could be nothing else there—then a low but distinct click, and
both Morey and Arcot were miraculously present, coming instantaneously from nowhere, if one's senses could be
relied on. On Arcot's back there was strapped a large and rather hastily wired mechanism—one long wire extending
from it out into the laboratory. He was carrying a second piece of apparatus, similarly wired. Morey was touching a
short metal bar that Arcot held extended in his hand, using a table knife as a connector, lest they get radio frequency
burns on making contact.
"I've been busy getting the last connection of this portable apparatus rigged up. I have the thing in working order, as
you see—or rather, didn't see. This other outfit here is the thing that is more important to us. It's a bit heavy, so if
you'll clear a space, I'll set it down. Look out for my power supply there—that wire is carrying a rather dangerously
high E.M.F. I had to connect with the lab power supply to do this, and I had no time to rig up a little mechanism like
the one the pirate must have.
"I have duplicated his experiment. He has simply made use of a principle known for some time, but as there was no
need for it, it hasn't been used. It was found back in the twentieth century, that very short wavelengths effected
peculiar changes in metals. It was shown that the plates of tubes working on very short waves became nearly
transparent. The waves were so short, however,
that they were economically useless. They would not travel in usable paths, so they were never developed.
Furthermore, existing apparatus could not be made to handle them. In the last war they tried to apply the idea for
making airplanes invisible, but they could not get their tubes to handle the power needed, so they had to drop it.
However, with the tube I recently got out on the market, it is possible to get down there. Our friend the pirate has
developed this thing to a point where he could use it. You can see that invisibility, while interesting, and a good thing
for a stage and television entertainment, is not very much of a commercial need. No one wants to be invisible in any
honest occupation. Invisibility is a tremendous weapon in war, so the pirate just started a little private war, the only
way he could make any money on his invention. His gas, too, made the thing attractive. The two together made a
perfect combination for criminal operations.
"The whole thing looks to me to be the work of a slightly unbalanced mind. He is not violently insane; probably just
has this one particular obsession. His scientific bump certainly shows no sign of weakness. He might even be some
new type of kleptomaniac. He steals things, and he has already stolen far more than any man could ever have any
need of, and he leaves in its place a 'stock' certificate in his own company. He is not violent, for hasn't he carefully
warned the men not to use the C-32L mask? You'll remember his careful instructions as to how to revive the peoplel
"He has developed this machine for invisibility, and naturally he can fly in and out of the air guard, without their
knowing he's there, provided their microphonic detectors don't locate him. I believe he uses some form of glider. He
can't use an internal combustion engine, for the ex-
plosions in the cylinders would be as visible as though the cylinders were made of clear quartz. He cannot have an
electric motor, for the storage cells would weigh too much. Furthermore, if he were using any sort of prop, or a jet
engine, the noise would give him away. If he used a glider, the noise of the big plane so near would be more than
enough to kill the slight sounds. The glider could hang above the ship, then dive down upon it as it'passed beneath.
He has a very simple system of anchoring the thing, as I discovered to my sorrow. It's a powerful electro-magnet
which he turn^ on when he lands. The landing deck of the big plane was right above our office aboard, and I found
my watch was doing all sorts of antics today. It lost an hour this morning, and this afternoon it gained two. I found it
was very highly magnetized—I could pick up needles with the balance wheel. I demagnetized it; now it runs all
right.
"But to get back, he anchors his ship, then, leaving it invisible, he goes to the air lock, and enters. He wears a high
altitude suit, and on his back he has a portable invisibility set and the fuel for his torch. The gas has already put
everyone to sleep, so he goes into the ship, still invisible, and melts open the safe.
"His power supply for the invisibility machine seems to be somewhat of a problem, but I think I would use a cylinder
of liquid air, and have a small air turbine to run a high voltage generator. He probably uses the same system on a
larger scale to run his big machine on the ship. He can't use an engine for that either.
"That torch of his is interesting, too. We have had atomic hydrogen welding for some time, and atomic hydrogen
releases some 100,000 calories per mole of molecular hydrogen; two grains of gas give one hundred thousand
calories. Oxygen has not been prepared in any
commercial quantity in the atomic state. From watching that man's torch, from the color of the flame and other
indications, I gather that he uses a flame of atomic oxygen-atomic hydrogen for melting, and surrounds it with a
preheating jacket of atomic hydrogen. The center flame probably develops a temperature of some 4000° centigrade,
and will naturally make that tungsten alloy run like water.
"As to the machine here—it is, as I said, a machine which impresses very high frequencies on the body it is
connected with. This puts the molecules in vibration at a frequency approaching that of light, and when the light
impinges upon it, it can pass through readily. You know that metals transmit light for short distances, but in order
that the light pass, the molecules of metal must be set in harmonic vibration at a rate approaching the frequency of
light. If we can impress such a vibration on a piece of matter, it will then transmit light very freely. If we impress this
vibration on the matter, say the body, electrically, we get the same effect and the body becomes perfectly transparent.
Now, since it is the vibration of the molecules that makes the light pass through the material, it must be stopped if we
wish to see the machine. Obviously it is much easier to detect me here among solid surroundings, than in the plane
high in the sky. What chance has one to detect a machine that is perfectly transparent when there is nothing but
perfectly transparent air around it? It is a curious property of this vibrational system of invisibility that the index of
refraction is made very low. It is not the same as that of air, but the difference is so slight that it is practically within
the limits of observation error; so small is the difference that there is no 'rainbow' effect. The difference of
temperature of the air would give equal effect.
"Now, since this vibration is induced by radio impulse, is it not possible to*impress another, opposing radio impulse,
that will overcome this tendency and bring the invisible object into the field of the visible once more? It is; and this
machine on the table is designed to do exactly that. It is practically a beam of a wavelength that alone would tend to
produce invisibility. But in this case it will make me visible. I'm going to stand right here, and Bob can operate that
set."
Arcot strode to the middle of the room, and then Morey turned the reflector of the beam set on him. There was a low
snap as Arcot turned on his set, then he was gone, as suddenly as the coming of darkness when a lamp is
extinguished. He was there one moment, then they were staring at the chair behind him, knowing that the man was
standing between them and it and knowing that they were looking through his body. It gave them a strange feeling,
an uncomfortable tingling along the spine. Then the voice—it seemed to come from the air, or some disembodied
ghost as the invisible man called to Morey.
"All right, Bob, turn her on slowly."
There was another snap as the switch of the disrupter beam was turned on. At once there was a noticeable fog-giness
in the air where Arcot had been. As more and more power was turned into the machine, they saw the man materialize
out of thin air. First he was a mere shadowy outline that was never fully above the level of conscious vision. Then
slowly the outlines of the objects behind became dimmer and dimmer, as the body of the man was slowly darkened,
till at last there was only a wavering aura about him. With a snap Morey shut off his machine and Arcot was gone
again. A second snap and he was solid before them. He had shut off his apparatus too.
"You can see now how we intend to locate our invisible
pirate. Of course we will depend on directional radio disturbance locating devices to determine the direction for the
invisibility disrupter ray. But you are probably marvelling at the greatness of the genius who can design and
construct this apparatus all in one day. I will explain the miracle. I have been working on short wave phenomena for
some time. In fact, I had actually made an invisibility machine, as Morey will testify, but I realized that it had no
commercial benefits, so I didn't experiment with it beyond the laboratory stunt stage. I published some of the theory
in the Journal of the International Physical Society—and I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the pirate based his
discovery on my report.
"I am still working on a somewhat different piece of apparatus that I believe we will find very relevant to this
business. I'll ask you to adjourn after tonight's meeting for another twenty-four hours till I can finish the apparatus I
am working on. It is very important that you be here, Fuller. I am going to need you in the work to follow. It will be
another problem of design if this works out, as I hope it will."
"I'll certainly make every effort to be here, Arcot," Fuller assured him.
"I can promise you a tough problem as well as an interesting one." Arcot smiled. "If the thing works, as I expect it to,
you'll have a job that will certainly be a feather for your cap. Also it will be a change."
"Well, with that inducement, I'll certainly be here. But I think that pirate could give us some hints on design. How
does he get his glider ten miles up? They've done some high-altitude gliding already. The distance record took
someone across the Atlantic in 2009, didn't it? But it seems that ten miles straight up is a bit too steep for a glider.
There are no vertical air currents at that height."
"I meant to say that his machine is not a true glider, but a semi-glider. He probably goes up ten miles or more with
the aid of a small engine, one so small it probably takes him half a day to get there. And it would be easy for a plane
to pass through the lower traffic lanes, then, being invisible, mount high and wait for the air liner. He can't use a very
large engine, for it would drag him down, but one of the new hundred horsepower jobs would'weigh only about fifty
pounds. I think we can draw a pretty good picture of his plane from scientific logic. It probably has a tremendous
wingspread and a very high angle of incidence to make it possible to glide at that height, and the engine and prop
will be almost laughably small."
The next evening the men got together for dinner, and there was considerable speculation as to the nature of the
discovery that Arcot was going to announce, for even his father had no knowledge of what it was. The two men
worked in separate laboratories, except when either had a particularly difficult problem that might be solved by the
other. All knew that the new development lay in the field of short wave research, but they could not find out in what
摘要：

THEBLACKSTARPASSESCopyright,1953,byJohnW.Campbell,Jr.Copyright,1930,byExperimenterPublications,Inc.AnAceBook,byarrangementwiththeauthor.CONTENTSIntroduction7BOOKONEPiracyPreferred11BOOKTWOSolarite76BOOKTHREETheBlackStarPasses161SecondAceprinting:August,1972PrintedinU.S.A.INTRODUCTIONTHESESTORIESWERE...

展开>> 收起<<
Campbell, John W Jr - The Black Star Passes.pdf

共78页,预览10页

还剩页未读， 继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

相关推荐

更多
立即下载
分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：78 页 大小：709.87KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-07

开通VIP享超值会员特权

  • 多端同步记录
  • 高速下载文档
  • 免费文档工具
  • 分享文档赚钱
  • 每日登录抽奖
  • 优质衍生服务

作者详情

相关内容

更多

热门标签

人际关系 动力学连接体 力的合成 配电装置 高考理综 全宋诗作者索引 公务员考试
/ 78
评分 收藏
分享
立即下载 VIP免费下载
客服
关注