E.E. 'Doc' Smith SF Gateway Omnibus: The Skylark of Space, Skylark Three, Skylark of Valeron, Skylark DuQuesne (9 page)

‘All you have to do is design them, Dick; and that shouldn’t be too hard. But, speaking of emergencies, the power plant should really have a very large factor of safety. Four hundred pounds, say, and everything in duplicate, from power-bars to push-buttons?’

‘I’ll buy that.’

Work was soon begun on the huge steel shell in the independent steel plant under the direct supervision of MacDougall by men who had been in his employ for years. While it was being built, Seaton and Crane went ahead with the construction of the original spaceship. Practically all of their time, however, was spent in perfecting the many essential things that were to go into the real
Skylark.

Thus they did not know that to the flawed members there were being attached faulty plates by imperfect welding. Nor could they have detected the poor workmanship by any ordinary inspection, for it was being done by a picked crew of experts, picked by Perkins. To make things even, Steel did not know that the many peculiar instruments installed by Seaton and Crane were not exactly what they should have been.

In due course ‘The Cripple’– a name which Seaton soon shortened to ‘Old Crip’– was finished. The foreman overheard a conversation between Crane and Seaton in which it was decided not to start for a couple of weeks, as they
had
to work out some kind of a book of navigation tables. Prescott reported that Steel was still sitting on its hands, waiting for the first flight. Word came from MacDougall that the
Skylark
was ready. Crane and Seaton went somewhere in the helicopter ‘to make a few final tests.’

A few nights later a huge ball landed on Crane Field. It moved lightly, easily, betraying its thousands of tons of weight only by the hole it made in the hard-beaten ground. Seaton and Crane sprang out.

Dorothy and her father were waiting. Seaton caught her up and kissed her vigorously. Then, a look of sheerest triumph on his face, he extended a hand to Vaneman.

‘She flies!
How
she flies! We’ve been around the moon!’

‘What?’
Dorothy was shocked. ‘Without even
telling me
? Why, I’d’ve been scared pea-green if I’d known!’

‘That was why,’ Seaton assured her. ‘Now you won’t have to worry next time we take off.’

‘I will so,’ she protested; but Seaton was listening
to Vaneman.

‘… it take?’

‘Not quite an hour. We could have done it in much less time.’ Crane’s voice was calm, his face quiet; but to those who knew him so well, every feature showed emotion.

Both inventors were at the summit, moved more than either could have told by their achievement, by the success of the flyer upon which they had worked so long.

Shiro broke the tension by bowing until his head almost touched the floor. ‘Sirs and lady, I impel myself to state this to be wonder extreme. If permitting, I shall delightful luxuriate in preparation suitable refreshment.’

Permission granted, he trotted away and the engineers invited the visitors to inspect their new craft.

Although Dorothy knew what to expect, from plans and drawings and from her own knowledge of ‘Old Crip,’ she caught her breath as she looked about the brilliantly lighted interior of the great sky-rover.

It was a spherical shell of hardened steel of great thickness, some forty feet in diameter. Its true shape was not readily apparent from inside, as it was divided into levels and compartments by decks and walls. In its center was a spherical structure of girders and beams. Inside this structure was a similar one which, on smooth but immensely strong universal bearings, was free to revolve in any direction. This inner sphere was filled with machinery surrounding a shining copper cylinder.

Six tremendous fabricated columns radiated outward; branching in maximum-strength design out into the hull. The floor was heavily upholstered and was not solid; the same was true of the dozen or more seats built in various places. There were two instrument boards, upon which tiny lights flashed and plate glass, plastic and metal gleamed.

Both Vanemans began to ask questions and Seaton showed them the principal features of the novel vessel. Crane accompanied them in silence, enjoying their pleasure, glorying in the mighty ship of space.

Seaton called attention to the great size and strength of one of the lateral supporting columns, then led them over to the vertical column that pierced the floor. Enormous as the lateral was, it appeared puny beside this monster of fabricated steel. Seaton explained that the two verticals had to be much stronger than the four laterals, as the center of gravity of the ship had been placed lower than its geometrical center, so that the apparent motion of the vessel would always be upward. Resting one hand caressingly upon the huge member, he explained exultantly that it was the ultimately last word
in strength made of the strongest known high-tensile, heat-treated, special-alloy steel.

‘But why go to such an extreme?’ the lawyer asked. ‘It looks as though it could support a bridge.’

‘It could. It’ll have to, if we ever really cut loose with the power. Have you got any idea of how fast this thing can fly?’

‘I have heard you talk of approaching the velocity of light, but that’s a little overdrawn, isn’t it?’

‘Not a bit. If it wasn’t for Einstein and his famous theory we could develop an acceleration twice as great as one light-velocity. As it is, we’re going to see how close we can crowd it – and it’ll be close, believe me. Out in space, that is. In air we’ll be limited to three or four times sound, in spite of all we could do in the line of heat-exchangers and refrigeration.’

‘But, from what I read about jets, ten gravities for ten minutes can be fatal.’

‘That’s right. But these floors are special, and those seats are infinitely more so. That was one of our hardest jobs; designing supporting surfaces to hold a man safe through forces that would ordinarily flatten him out into a thin layer of goo.’

‘I see. How are you going to steer? And how about stable reference planes to steer by? Or are you merely going to head for Mars or Venus or Neptune or Aldebaran as the case may be?’

‘That wouldn’t be so good. We thought for a while we’d have to, but Mart licked it. The power plant is entirely separate from the ship, inside that inner sphere, about which the outer sphere and the ship itself are free to revolve. Even if the ship rolls or pitches, the bar stays right where it is pointed. Those six big jackets cover gyroscopes, which keep the outer sphere in exactly the same position—’

‘Relative to what?’ Vaneman asked. ‘It seems to have moved since we came in … Yes, if you look closely, you can see it move.’

‘Naturally. Um … m. Never thought of it from that angle – just that its orientation isn’t affected by either the ship or the power plant. If you want to pin me down, though, it’s oriented solidly to the three dimensions of the steel plant at the time MacDougall got the gyroscopes up to holding speed. Since that doesn’t mean much here and now, I’d say, as an approximation, that it is locked to the fixed stars. Or, rather, to the effective mass of the galaxy as a whole …’

‘Please,
Dick,’ Dorothy interrupted. ‘Enough of the jargon. Show us the important things – kitchen, bedrooms, bath.’

Seaton did so, explaining in detail some of the many differences between living on Earth and in a small, necessarily self-sufficient worldlet out in airless, lightless, heatless space.

‘Oh, I’m just wild to go out with you, Dick. When will you take me?’

‘Very soon, Dottie. Just as soon as we’re sure we’ve got all the bugs ironed out. You’ll be our first passenger, so help me.’

‘How do you see out? How about air and water? How do you keep warm, or cool, as the case may be?’ Vaneman fired the questions as though
he were cross-examining a witness. ‘No, excuse me; you’ve already mentioned the heaters and refrigerators.’

‘The pilots see outside, the whole sphere of vision, by means of special instruments, something like periscopes but vastly different – electronic. Passengers can see out by uncovering windows – they’re made of fused quartz. We carry air – oxygen, nitrogen, helium and argon – in tanks, although we won’t need much new air because of our purifiers and recovery units. We also have oxygen-generating apparatus aboard, for emergencies.

‘We carry water enough to last us three months – or indefinitely if necessary, as we can recover all waste water as chemically pure H
₂
O. Anything else?’

‘You’d better give up, dad,’ Dorothy advised, laughing. ‘It’s perfectly safe for me to go along!’

‘It seems to be. But it’s getting pretty well along toward morning, Dorothy, and if any of us are to get any sleep at all tonight you and I should go home.’

‘That’s so, and I’m the one who has been screaming at Dick about going to bed every night at eleven. I’ll go powder my nose – I’ll be right back.’

Vaneman said, after Dorothy had gone. ‘You mentioned “bugs” only in a very light and passing way.’

‘And you didn’t mention them at all,’ Seaton countered.

‘Naturally not,’ with a jerk of his head in the direction his daughter had taken. ‘How did it
really
go, boys?’

‘Wonderful, really—’ Dick began to enthuse.

‘You
tell me, Martin.’

‘In the main, very well. Of course this was a very short flight, but we found nothing wrong with the engines or their controls; we are fairly certain that no major alterations will be necessary. The optical system needs some more work; the attractors and repellors are not at all what they should be in either accuracy or delicacy. The rifles work perfectly. The air-purifiers do not remove all odors, but the air after purification is safe to breathe and physiologically adequate. The water-recovery system does not work at all – it delivers sewage.’

‘Well, that’s not too serious, with all the water you carry.’

‘No, but it malfunctions so grossly that some mistake was made – obviously. It should be easy to find and to fix. For a thing so new, we both are very well satisfied with its performance.’

‘You’re ready for Steel, then? I don’t know what they’ll do when they find out that you don’t intend to do anything with “Old Crip,” but they’ll do something.’

‘I hope they blow their stacks,’ Seaton said, grimly. ‘We’re ready for ’em, with a lot of stuff they never
heard of and won’t like a little bit. Give us four or five days to straighten out the bugs Mart told you about – then let ’em do anything they want to.’

The afternoon following the home-coming of the
Skylark,
Seaton and Dorothy returned from a long horseback ride in the park. After Seaton had mounted his motorcycle, Dorothy turned toward a bench in the shade of an old elm to watch a game of tennis on the court next door. Scarcely had she seated herself when a great copper-plated ball landed directly in front of her. A heavy steel door snapped open and a powerful figure clad in leather leapt out. The man’s face and eyes were covered by his helmet flaps and amber goggles.

Dorothy leaped to her feet with a shriek – Seaton had just left her and this spaceship was far too small to be the
Skylark –
it was the counterpart of ‘Old Crip,’ which, she knew, could never fly. As these thoughts raced through her she screamed again and turned in flight; but the stranger caught her in three strides and she found herself helpless in a pair of arms as strong as Seaton’s.

Picking her up lightly, DuQuesne carried her over the lawn to his spaceship. Dorothy screamed wildly as she found that her fiercest struggles made no impression on her captor. Her clawing nails glanced harmlessly off the glass and leather of his helmet; her teeth were equally ineffective against his leather coat.

With the girl in his arms, DuQuesne stepped into the vessel. The door clanged shut behind them. Dorothy caught a glimpse of another woman, tied tightly into one of the side seats.

‘Tie her feet, Perkins,’ DuQuesne ordered, holding her around the body so that her feet extended straight out in front of him. ‘She’s a fighting wildcat.’

As Perkins threw one end of a small rope around her ankles Dorothy doubled up her knees, drawing her feet as far away from him as she could. He stepped up carelessly and reached out to grasp her ankles. She straightened out, viciously driving her riding-boots into the pit of his stomach with all her strength.

It was a true solar-plexus blow; and, completely knocked out, Perkins staggered backward against the instrument board. His outflung arm pushed the power lever out to its last notch, throwing full current through the bar, which was pointed straight up as it had been when they made their landing.

There was the creak of fabricated steel stressed almost
to its limit as the vessel shot upward with a tremendous velocity, and only the ultra-protective and super-resilient properties of the floor saved their lives as they were thrown flat upon it by the awful force of their acceleration.

The maddened space-ship tore through the thin layer of the Earth’s atmosphere in instants – it was through it and into the almost-perfect vacuum of interplanetary space before the thick steel hull was even warmed through.

Dorothy lay flat upon her back, just as she had fallen, unable even to move her arms, gaining each breath by a terrible effort. Perkins was a huddled heap under the instrument board. The other captive, Brookings’ ex-secretary, was in somewhat better case, as her bonds had snapped and she was lying in optimum position in one of the seats – forced into that position and held there, as the designer of those seats had intended. She, like Dorothy, was gasping for breath, her straining muscles barely able to force air into her lungs because of the paralyzing weight of her chest.

DuQuesne alone was able to move, and it required all of his Herculean strength to creep and crawl, snakelike, toward the instrument board. Finally, attaining his goal, he summoned all his strength to grasp, not the controlling lever, which he knew was beyond his reach, but a cutout switch only a couple of feet above his head. With a series of convulsive movements he fought his way up, first until he was crouching on elbows and knees, then into a squatting position. Then, placing his left hand under his right, he made a last supreme effort. Perspiration streamed from his face; his muscles stood out in ridges visible even under the heavy leather of his coat; his lips parted in a snarl over his locked teeth as he threw every ounce of his powerful body into an effort to force his right hand up to that switch. His hand approached it slowly – closed over it – pulled it out.