about an axis inside of the shaft. This was a type of control with which I was familiar — I had developed one almost like it for the government ships back in 1973. The wheel controlled the power applied, and the small rod caused the ship to rotate in the same direction as its deflection, and at a rate proportional to the amount of deflection from neutral.
I turned the wheel slowly, applying power. The ship started rolling over. I reached for the control rod, but it was so badly blurred that I fumbled for it interminably. The ship lurched violently, and I was tom from my weak hold on the column and dumped to the flattened floor at the bottom of the sphere. Through the glass covering I saw banks of countless instruments, which I had not noticed before on account of the darkness. Then my vision blurred, cleared again, and faded entirely.
I felt that I was in a pool of warm water, very comfortable. But when I stretched luxuriously a blast of fire seared through my chest, bringing me to full consciousness sharply. I lay huddled in a pool of blood in the bottom of the sphere; remembered everything. A hot sun was shining through the crystal hemisphere above, full upon me. Without it, I probably would never have revived.
Up there were the controls. I would have to reach them, then tie myself into position. A look at the airlock showed that it was closed tightly, probably by the lurch at the start. After long and painful effort I succeeded in climbing to the controls and fastening myself into position with belts provided for that purpose. I depressed the directing rod, the ship's nose spun down, and the horizon swept into view. The ice fields were gone, and in their place was an unbroken stretch of sea, far, far below. The sun rode high in the sky.
I looked at my clothing; it was stained with great blotches of dried blood. I ripped open my shirt. There, low on the center of my chest was a blue rimmed red pucker which frothed red bubbles with every breath. I looked at it impersonally; knew there was another like it on my back. I felt a mild surprise that I was still alive, but knew there would not long be occasion for that surprise. My three million dollar extra life was gone beyond hope.
I thought of the plan which had Worked so well until the very last moment; of the girl, alone on a lost northern ice field with two merciless beings from another world, armed and angry; of the atomic machines that were only a few feet away but which I could never reach and examine; and began to seethe with impotent rage. Everything had gone wrong, and it was too late to help.
Then I remembered the ray walls, and I knew what I could do. I looked carefully at the control column. Between the directing rod and the wheel were set three small locking buttons. I dropped to the seat and tried them. The first controlled the repulsive screen, and I locked it in and allowed the ship to sink until it floated on the screen about 300 feet above the water. I turned the ship slowly until the transparent nose pointed straight down and then set the second button. A circle of sea directly below boiled violently, and the ship jumped into the air from the reaction of driving out the heat rays. The third button caused a similar jump due to reaction, but it controlled the violet ray, which because of its great penetration gave no noticeable heating effect.
I turned the power control wheel to its maximum and headed southward, as nearly as I could judge from the position of the sun. The hull vibrated in a high pitched scream as the streamlined ship tore through the air. The scream weakened as I gained altitude; finally died. The sea raced beneath me, and sank further and further away.
After a time I considered it necessary to begin slowing, and turned the ship about so that the driving tube, which pointed along the streamlined tail, could oppose the now excessive speed. The ship was almost at a standstill when I turned again, and saw, far below and in the distance, the violet shimmer of the ray walls I had sought. Carefully avoiding the path of the rays, I soon came in sight of the line of giant ships that maintained the walls. Casually I approached the nearest one; it did not object to my presence. A few seconds later the 500 foot hulk was a globular drop of incandescent metal, falling through airless space to the earth. This efficient action pleased me immensely. I turned my ship and headed toward the next in line, at an acceleration that started the blood oozing through the wound in my breast.
That was the last I can clearly remember. Thereafter, time was measured by centuries of agony as I drew and expelled each breath. But my will was driven by a single purpose—destroy, destroy, destroy—and in an occasional dear interval I managed to keep my ship flying low over the line of monster raindrops. Both rays were on continuously, and I think I missed very few in that line as I swept along. It never occurred to me to wonder why the invaders put up no defense—I think now that the ships must have been automatic and controlled by time mechanisms or from a distance. No provision had been made for an attack.
Finally, in one of my better moments, I saw the line below breaking up, the ships fleeing in all directions before my single tiny scout. And then the outer world was slowly submerged in a rising sea of pain.
Consciousness came back slowly, but the pain was gone, and I felt a perfect comfort such as I had never known before. I opened my eyes. The transparent nose of my raindrop showed a sky of black velvet, with a slowly moving procession of bright points. Also part of that slow parade was a small, brilliant white crescent—the moon—and a tremendous, somewhat lopsided ring of light — the earth. My ship, spinning slowly end over end, reeled off this panorama endlessly. I tried to reach for the directing rod, to regain control, but I could not move my arm, weightless though it was.
My mind was very clear. The ring of destruction had been thoroughly broken, and it would take months to reorganize it, if ever that scheme were tried again. My trip had not been in vain. The secret of disintegration had eluded me, but the short day I had spent in this age had not been without success: soul-satisfying destruction. I thought of the girl—I did not even know her name—the only inhabitant of this world I had seen, and resolved that when I came again, my first effort would be to rescue her. I wondered what she thought of me, flying away and not returning.
Looking back over my actions, I found not a single cause for regret—not a single mistake. My hand had been forced from the beginning, and with better luck I would have gone far. Even with things as they were, I had no cause to complain.
(Continued on page 733)
