Henderson Blake was among them, as was Marjorie. She stepped forward, as he prepared to make the demonstration.
"I know, somehow, you're going to be successful!" she murmured, pressing his hand, meeting his eyes with a smile of confidence.
"I hope you're right – Marjorie!" he replied, letting slip the last word almost unconsciously.
Her face colored warmly as the stepped back and rejoined her father.
Kendrick's heart was beating fast as he turned to his instruments. How could he fail, with faith like that behind him? – love, even, perhaps! He mustn't fail – nor would he, if his theories were sound.
_____________________________
Addressing the assemblage, he explained briefly the complicated apparatus.
"These towers," he said, pointing to four steel structures about ten feet high, arranged at the corners of a square roughly twenty feet across, "are miniature radio masts. The area enclosed by them, we will assume, is the city of New York. That metal disc suspended above the area represents the invader. It contains a miniature heat-generator such as I was experimenting with recently in the Arizona desert."
He paused, threw a switch. Somewhere in the laboratory a dynamo began to whir.
"I am now sending electro-magnetic waves from the four towers," he resumed. "But instead of broadcasting them in every direction. I am bending them in concave cathode of force over the city. You may picture this cathode as an invisible shield, if you choose, but it is more than that. It it a reflector. If my theories are right, the radio-energetic ray I am about to project upon it from my miniature disc will be flung back to its source as though it had been a ray of light falling on a mirror. The success of the experiment depends upon what the result will be."
_____________________________
Kendrick ceased, moved toward a rheostat.
As he made ready to touch it, a breathless tension settled upon the assemblage. Upon the outcome of what was now to happen rested the fate of America – and the world.
Calmly, though every fiber of his being was at breaking stress, the young scientist opened the rheostat.
For an instant, the ray seared down – then, as it boomeranged back, the disc burst into flame, dissolved, disintegrated. A thin dust, like carbon, slowly settled to the laboratory floor.
Cutting off the current from the radio towers, Kendrick faced them, a light of triumph in his tired eyes.
"You see – it works," he said.
They saw. Beyond a doubt, it worked!
And what Kendrick saw, as his eyes met Marjorie's, made him forget his fatigue.
_____________________________
The rest was a mad scramble of preparation. Only a few brief hours remained, and much was to be done.
The application of the principle that had just been demonstrated involved a hook-up from the Consolidated Electric laboratory with every broadcasting station in the metropolitan area, power being supplied by commandeering every generating plant within a radius of fifty miles.
The city, moreover, had to be evacuated of all but the few brave hundreds who volunteered to stand by their posts at radio stations and generating plants.
As for Kendrick, it was the busiest, most hectic morning he had ever experienced. Only the realization of a girl's love and a nation's trust enabled him to overcome the exhaustion of two sleepless nights.
At length, a little before eleven, all was in readiness. Just two questions troubled the young scientist's mind. Had the people of the disc learned of their preparations to counter the attack? And would the improvised broadcasting apparatus of the area stand the stupendous strain that would be placed upon it if the ray came down?
The first of these questions was answered, staggeringly, at a quarter after eleven.
"Kendrick – oh, my God!" cried Blake, bursting into the laboratory. "Marjorie – they've got her again! Look! Read this!"
He thrust out a piece of paper. Kendrick took it, read:
Your daughter will be my queen, after this noon.
"Where'd you get it?" he gasped.
"One of the invisible devils thrust it into my hand right out in the street, not five minutes ago," Blake explained, trembling with anguish. "Do you realize what this means, Kendrick? She's on the disc now – and in a scant three-quarters of an hour…"
"Yes, I realize!" his voice came grimly. "And I realize, too, that they don't know their fate. They'll stay. There's forty-five minutes yet. We can't abandon our defense against the ray, not even for Marjorie. But I'll go, I'll rescue her – or die with her!"
And even as Blake mutely reached out his hand to grip that of the determined young man who stood before him. Kendrick touched his wrist mechanism and went invisible.
_____________________________
Once on the street, he pressed the escalator button as well – and by the strength of the vibrations that followed, he knew he must be very close within that mysterious lifting zone.
Running west a block, he found it growing stronger.
Fairly racing now, he continued on toward the river, progress unhampered in the deserted streets. Suddenly, with a thrill of exultation, he felt himself swept up, whirled away toward that great shimmering hulk against the sun.
"What hope?" he was thinking. "What possible hope?" And the answer came: Cor!
Reaching the disc, he switched out the escalator influence and hastened across the city to that monumental structure of jade-green stone.
The mighty little dwarf would be up there in his glittering mosaic apartment, or in his pinnacle laboratory, perhaps, ready to pull the lever that would release that stupendous blast of heat.
Gaining the jewelled door of the monarch's quarters at last, after escaping detection by a hair's breadth more than once, he pressed the button outside, just as the guard had done that first time.
In response, the door opened – and there stood Cor.
_____________________________
He stood there an instant, that is, while the expression on his leathery face went from inquiry to alarm. Then, as Kendrick burst into the room and shut the door, he went invisible.
In that same instant, the young scientist's eyes beheld a sight that caused his heart to leap. There sat Marjorie, bound in a chair, an expression half of hope, half of dejection, on her face.
"It's I – Gordon!" he called. "Take courage!"
"Oh, I prayed so you'd come – and you came!" she murmured as her face lighted. Then, tensely, she added, "The door – look out!"
Kendrick wheeled, and just in time. The door was opening.
"Not so fast!" he called, lunging.
His hands gripped the dwarf, yanked him back, throttled him before he could emit a cry, pushed the door shut.
Cor struggled like a madman, but it was futile. Kendrick's hands cut into his throat like a vice. After a moment or two, he gasped, relaxed.
Releasing his grip then, Kendrick felt for his wrist, stripped off his bracelet – whereupon the dwarf became visible. His face was putty-white. He was either dead or unconscious.
Restoring his own visibility then, he advanced to Marjorie, swiftly freed her.
"Take this!" he said, handing her Cor's bracelet.
She slipped it on.
"Now let's tie him and get out of here. He may be dead, but we can't take any chances."
_____________________________
The dwarf wasn't dead, however, for he groaned and opened his eyes as they lifted him into the chair.
"You win, Professor – but it avails you nothing!" He smiled maliciously. "My capture, my death even, will not prevent the ray. The orders have been given. It will be projected sharp at twelve. You but go to your doom!"
"That," said Kendrick, "is a matter of opinion."
Swiftly they bound him, gagged him.
"And now," he added, "we wish you good day – and such fate as you deserve!"
Then, turning to Marjorie:
"Your hand again!"
There was a new tenderness in its soft warmth that thrilled him.
They touched their buttons, went invisible.
Silently, then, they stole from the apartment. Swiftly they made their way down to the concourse, raced across the city to the amber court, descended to the trap-door.
It must be nearly twelve, Kendrick knew. He couldn't look at his watch, for it as well as himself was invisible. Indeed, even as they stood there, poised for the plunge, a faint whistle rose from below.
Marjorie trembled.
"Steady!" he spoke. "Some of them always blow a minute or two before. Are you ready?"
"Yes!"
"Then press your button – jump!"
Even as they leapt, the sickening thought came that perhaps the escalator ray was no longer running. But the fear was unwarranted. They were caught up, whirled gently downward.
Moving along laterally, as they descended, they were able to land without difficulty in the middle of a deserted street near the Consolidated Electric laboratory.
"Thank heaven!" she sighed, as their feet touched solid ground. They pressed off both buttons, becoming visible once more.
"Echo!" he agreed. "So let's – "
_____________________________
But Kendrick never completed that sentence – for now whistles all over the metropolitan area, rising from the generating plants, announced the ominous hour.
It was high noon. The ultimatum had expired.
Lifting tense faces to the disc, they waited. Would that stupendous ray be hurled back upon itself? Or would it sear through their makeshift defense, plunging them and the whole great metropolis into oblivion?
Suddenly, cataclysmically, the answer came.
There burst a withering whirlwind from the disc. It struck that mighty concave cathode of interlaced waves above the city. There followed an instant's clash of titanic forces. Then the cathode triumphed, hurled it back.
Rocked by a concussion as of two worlds in impact, blinded by a glare that made the sunlight seem feeble in comparison. Marjorie and Kendrick clung together, while the disc grew into a satellite of calcium fire in the sky.
Presently, as the conflagration waned, they opened their eyes. Gravely, but with deep thanksgiving, they searched each other's faces. In them they read deep understanding, too, and a new hope.
"I think we'd better go and find father," she said at length, quietly.
"I think so too!" he agreed.
As they headed toward the laboratory, a fine, powdery dust, like volcanic ash was falling.
It continued to fall until the city streets were covered to a depth of an inch or more.
Thus passed the menace of Vada.
The Readers' Corner
To the Rescue
Dear Editor:
I hope you can see fit to print this letter in the July issue of Astounding Stories. This letter is written in defence of Ray Cummings and in reply to the letter of C. Harry Jaeger, 2900 Jordan Road, Oakland, California.
Following is an extract of Mr. Jaeger's letter: "Also I like my authors to make an original contribution to whatever theory of science they develop fictionally. This, Ray Cummings does not do in his very interesting story, "Phantoms of Reality." His beginning is palpably borrowed from Francis Flagg's story, "The Blue Dimension," which appeared in a Science Fiction magazine in 1927." Another paragraph is devoted to explaining his claim. He claims that Cummings' method of transporting his characters from one dimension or planet to another is practically copied from Flagg's story. The method, that is, not the narration. I hope to prove that if any borrowing was done, it was done by Flagg. Incidentally, Flagg's story "The Blue Dimension" was printed in 1928, not 1927, as Mr. Jaeger says.
I have in my possession a story by Ray Cummings named "Into the Fourth Dimension" and published in another magazine during the last month of 1926 and first ones of 1927. And in this story – printed two years before Flagg's story – Cummings uses almost the same apparatus of passing from one dimension to another as is used in "Phantoms of Reality." I will not discuss whether this procedure is to be approved or not.
This letter is not to be construed as an attack on Mr. Jaeger, or Mr. Flagg, or on either of the two stories under discussion.
If Mr. Jaeger will let me know I will send him Ray Cumming's story "Into the Fourth Dimension," as clipped from the magazines.
I write this letter to the magazine, instead of Mr. Jaeger, so that if any one was misled by Mr. Jaeger's well meant but mistaken criticism they will be straightened out. – Donald Coneyon, Petoskey, Michigan.
A Wish for Success
Dear Editor:
I have read both of your first issues. I am writing to say that I wish you success with your new magazine, which I know will succeed.
Also to say I wish you would get more of the "Carnes and Dr. Bird Stories" by Captain S. P. Meek, for I think everybody, including myself, likes them. I also enjoyed "Creatures of the Light." – Thomas D. Taylor, 415 So. 7th St., Boise, Idaho.
No Kick Any More
Dear Editor:
I have been a reader of Astounding Stories ever since you started it, and I guess I'm getting too particular as I don't get the kick out of it any more that I did out of the first issues. That is, I don't get the kick out of ALL of the stories as I did at first. However, "Murder Madness" sure is a hot one. Why not print a story by Sax Rohmer, H. G. Wells, or some of them? – H. Elsworth Jones, Box 340, R. R. 6, Battle Creek, Mich.
Via Postcard
Dear Editor:
Astounding Stories is an astounding magazine. It has really astounding stories. It couldn't be better. There's hardly room for improvement. May Astounding Stories be more astounding yet. I like it! – Monroe Hood Stinson, 1742, 12th Ave., Oakland, California.
Only Fiction!
Dear Editor:
I have just finished a story in the February, 1930, issue of Astounding Stories entitled "Into Space," by Sterner St. Paul.
I would like to know if it is a true story, if the actions described in it really happened, or is it merely a story of fiction. – Dan S. Scherrer, Shawneetown, Ill.
Perhaps – Soon
Dear Editor:
I have just finished reading your new magazine, Astounding Stories. It is the best magazine I have ever read. Keep up the good work and you will find me a constant reader. I have only one suggestion to make: Let Astounding Stories come out every other Thursday. – Harold Kulko, 433 Palmer E., Detroit, Michigan.
More Preferences
Dear Editor:
I have read with great interest the second issue of Astounding Stories and note your invitation for readers to express themselves.
I enjoyed the whole magazine, finding the literary quality surprisingly high. Especially good were "Spawn of the Stars," and "Creatures of the Light." Harl Vincent's tale was the best of his I have read; and Captain Meek's are always good. "The Corpse on the Grating," however, was merely Poe's "Fall of the House of Usher" done over, and not half so well.
As for the sort of tales I like, here they are in order of preference:
1. Tales of weird mystery – Merritt's "Moon Pool" and his others; Taine's "White Lily."
2. Interplanetary Adventure – "A Columbus of Space," by Serviss; "The Skylark of Space," by Smith.
3. "Different stories," that defy classification, based on new ideas of science – most of Wells' short stories are examples. 4. Detective, Fourth Dimension, and air adventure – only well done. – Jack Williamson, Box 661 Canyon, Texas.
A Brick or Two
Dear Editor:
For the last three years we have been reading any and all of the various Science Fiction magazines which have appeared upon the market. We therefore feel that we are as well qualified as anyone to offer the criticism and advice that follows.
First, the stories. We feel that it would be a good idea to get your stories from the same authors whose work has been and is being accepted by the other magazines in this field. In one case you have already done this, and I consider his stories to be the best in each issue. I believe that you will be forced to do this eventually, anyhow, because the people who read this magazine will naturally be readers of the others also, and will therefore, be used to the standards set by those publications. Then, you should have someone who is well qualified to pass upon the science in the stories.
Second, the cover design and the pictures at the beginning of each story. Up to this time the cover and inside pictures have contained many mistakes. The cover of the March issue was especially atrocious. In the first place a voyager in outer space would find it jet black and studded with stars, instead of blue and apparently empty, except for a few tremendously oversize planets, a moon with entirely too many craters, and a total eclipse of the sun with a very much distorted corona visible beside the earth. Illustrations by your cover artist also appear in another publication, but these are much superior to the ones in Astounding Stories. Here also a scientific advisor would be welcome.
Third, I think it would be a good idea to have a department in which readers could write their opinions of the stories and suggest improvements in the conduct of the magazine.
Fourth, I think there should be a scientific editorial in each issue by some eminent scientist. This is also a feature in the other magazines.
We hope that you take these criticisms and suggestions, as they were offered, in good faith. We also hope that the circulation will increase as the magazine becomes better. – George L. Williams and Harry Heillisan, 5714 Howe St., Pittsburgh, Pa.
"Wonderful"
Dear Editor:
I received your magazine last week, Astounding Stories, and I think it is wonderful. I am very glad that I subscribed for it. I can hardly wait to get the latest one which I hoped to receive to-day and was very much disappointed when it did not arrive. I hope you will consider a quarterly or at least an annual in the near future.
I wish you success with this magazine, and hope you will forgive my writing you so often in reference to your magazine – Louis Wentzler, 1935, Woodbine St., Brooklyn, New York.
– But We Made Our Bow Only Last January!
Dear Editor:
Last month my boy brought one copy of this magazine home, and I want to ask you if you would send me the copies from last January, 1929, up to December, 1929. If you charge no more than $3.00 would you send them C. O. D.? Do you have the issues for 1928, too?
I never knew there was a magazine like that on the market. I never bought one because most of them are no good, and when one has children one has to be doubly careful.
But this magazine is just right. No silly love stories and mushy stuff in them. It sure keeps your mind from unpleasant things. We can get them from the newsstand but I would like to subscribe for them.
Keep up the good work and please send me the last year's copies and let me know if I could get 1928, too. – Mrs. M. Ristan, 4684, No. Broadway, Denver, Colorado.
"Best One Yet"
Dear Editor:
The April issue is the best one you have put out yet. Arthur J. Burks is GOOD. I hope to see much of him in the future. "Brigands of the Moon," by Ray Cummings, is getting better with each instalment. The stories of Dr. Bird are always interesting. I would like to see one in each issue, if you could arrange for it.
As long as the other readers like the size of Astounding stories, I will, too, but please cut all edges smooth like the latest issue of Five Novels Monthly. I would like to see a full-page illustration with each story, and if possible by Wesso.
I am glad that you are starting another serial in the May issue of Astounding Stories. I like serials and I hope that you will always have two in each issue.
Your schedule for the May issue looks good, and I'm sure it will be, with such authors as Murray Leinster, Victor Rousseau, Ray Cummings, Harl Vincent and Sewell P. Wright.
I am still waiting for a different colored cover. – Jack Darrow, 4225, N. Spaulding Ave., Chicago, Illinois.
An Enthusiastic Reader
Dear Editor:
As a reader of long standing of Science Fiction I feel I am qualified to make some remarks and give my opinion of the wonderful Astounding Stories magazine lately put out. Although I read three other Science Fiction magazines none of them have aroused in me such a wonderful enthusiasm as Astounding Stories. Before I forget it I want to mention that I read two quarterlies also.
The reason, or rather reasons, for my enthusiasm I will now enumerate. (1) The stories are wonderful. (2) The binding is very strong and efficient. (3) The print is just right, and soothing to the eyes of one who reads much. The paper is good, and the size and price of the magazine is just right. The covers are excellent, and with the addition of "The Readers' Corner" the magazine becomes absolutely perfect. Truly a wonderful start. See that it is kept up. The only thing that can still spoil the magazine is poor stories. Science Fiction stories that contain no science.
In "Vampires of Venus" the plot was rather weak. Even if the Venerians knew nothing of entomology, they should have brains enough to get rid of the vampires the way Leslie Larner did without having to call an Earthman to help them. Another thing: the Venerians kept only insects that were not harmful to the crops. On Earth there are such insects who help the farmer by eating harmful insects. If the harmful insects were exterminated – an almost impossible and gigantic task – the harmless insects would change their diet and become harmful too. And it seems funny, too, that such a highly civilized planet as Venus should still depend on domesticated animals for food, drink and clothing instead of manufacturing what they need synthetically.
The April cover on your magazine was wonderful.
Before I close I wish to say a word about the Science Correspondence Club of which I am a proud member. There is little to say, however, after reading Conrad Ruppert's letter in the April issue. The membership has increased to over 300 now, numbering among them quite a number of famous scientists and authors. All I can say is that I hope every scientifically inclined person of whatever nationality, creed, color or sex they may be, will join this wonderful and rapidly progressing club. I will now close thanking the publishers of Astounding Stories for issuing such a wonderful magazine – Stan Osowski, E2, Railroad St., Central Falls, R. I.
But – Conniston Was An Impostor!
Dear Editor:
I read with interest Mr. Ray Cummings' story, "Brigands of the Moon," in the March number of Astounding Stories. The tale was a worthy one from the pen of so clever a writer. I do think, however, that the author might have left out the point about Sir Arthur Conniston, an English gentleman, turning traitor. This sort of thing is hardly calculated to bring about a friendly feeling between England and America, the two greatest countries in the world. I have the greatest admiration for the United States, and though we may have a little fun at each other's expense, there is no ill feeling meant, but I really hope you will not publish any other story like that one. – An Englishman, Montreal, Canada.
Likes the Romance
Dear Editor:
I have just finished my second copy of Astounding Stories and I wish to say I have enjoyed every story.
For some time I have been a reader of Science Fiction, but none will compare to Astounding Stories. These stories seem to have the proper amount of romance in them to make them really interesting, and it adds the proper touch.
I have no criticism to make. May I wish you a great success with this magazine – Frank I. Sontag, 825 Prescott Ave., Scranton, Pa.
High Praise
Dear Editor:
Allow me to congratulate you upon the establishment of "The Readers' Corner." I do not know which was the first issue of your delightful magazine, but I have been buying it regularly for quite a few months.
I may not be an experienced critic, but it can be easily seen by anyone that this magazine is one of the best on sale. I, for one, enjoy your stories more than any other stories I have ever read.
I have just finished the second part of the four-part serial entitled "Brigands of the Moon." I thing Ray Cummings is the best author I have ever met up with in stories. The drawings are fine, the print is excellent, but I think the paper could be improved. But by no means change the size of your little magazine. The size is just right.
In your April issue I read in "The Readers' Corner" about a Science Correspondence Club. Believe me when I say I'm sending immediately for an application blank. I think the idea of this club is excellent.
Truly you have contributed a great gift to Science Fiction readers in offering this magazine to the receptive public. – Theodore L. Page, 2361 Los Angeles Ave., Pittsburgh, Pa.
"Don't Do It!"
Dear Editor:
This afternoon I saw Astounding Stories for the first time and immediately grabbed a copy, as I have read others of the Clayton group, and moreover am a Science Fiction fan.
The newsstand has no back numbers, and I simply must have the March 1930 issue, as I wish to read "Brigands of the Moon," so here is 25¢, in stamps to cover purchase price and cost of mailing me a copy of that issue.
Have you a complete file since Vol. 1, No. 1? If so, what is the cost including charges? I'm sorry that I missed this magazine before, but you can rest assured that I'll miss no more.
In the "Readers' Corner" I notice a call from Stephen Takacs for a change in size. DON'T DO IT! The size and shape are O. K., and to make it the awkward size of most magazines (including two of the Science Fiction magazines that I am now a confirmed reader of), would not improve it a bit.
You have two of my favorite authors in the April number; no, I see it is three – Burks, Cummings and Meek. They are O. K., but don't forget a few others, such as Burroughs, Verrill, Hamilton, Coblentz, Keller, Quinn, Williamson, Leinster, Repp, Vincent, Flagg – oh, why continue; you certainly know all the good authors of OUR kind of fiction; try them all. Of course, the other Science Fiction magazines that I take are full of stories by my favorites, but you can get stories by them too.
From this one issue that I have read I can see only praise for your publication. Here's to a long life and a happy one.
Don't forget to send me the March issue as fast as the mail can get it here – Robert J. Hyatt, 1353 Kenyon St., N. W., Washington D. C.
"Worst Ever Read"
Dear Editor:
Since you invite criticism as well as praise, I am impelled to state that by far the worst story I ever read in any Science Fiction magazine was "Vampires of Venus," by Anthony Pelcher, which appeared in your April issue. It was so idiotic, so flat and inane, that it might have passed for a burlesque rather than a straight story, were it not painfully evident that the author was serious. The yarn was unworthy of Astounding Stories and did not belong in this magazine.
The other stories, except for an amateurish attempt called "The Man Who Was Dead," were deeply engrossing and of unusual merit. – Sears Langell, 1214 Boston Road, New York.
"The Readers' Corner"
All Readers are extended a sincere and cordial invitation to "come over in 'The Readers' Corner'" and join in our monthly discussion of stories, authors, scientific principles and possibilities – everything that's of common interest in connection with our Astounding Stories.
Although from time to time the Editor may make a comment or so, this is a department primarily for Readers, and we want you to make full use of it. Likes, dislikes, criticisms, explanations, roses, brickbats, suggestions – everything's welcome here; so "come over in 'The Readers' Corner'" and discuss it with all of us!
– The Editor.
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