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Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
had been removed from Koerber's ship to facilitate repairs. The atom-
blast raised clouds of iridescent mineral as it peeled the ground like a
gigantic knife. But the Genton-Shells prevented close aim, as the
explosions buffeted the cruiser off her course. Captain Dennis finally
came into the control room.
"They saw us, all right," he growled angrily. "I wasn't able to come
closer than a hundred feet of Koerber's ship with the gun!"
"They've almost got us boxed in, sir. I can't hold her on much longer."
"All right then, Jeffery, pull out ... right bank ... that should throw
them off long enough for us to break away. Give me a few seconds to
adjust my sights, I'm going back to the turret!"
The great cruiser had reached its objective and swept like a
stupendous bird of death over the Pirate camp spewing a rain of
death. Two pirates caught behind mounds of supplies and provisions
were blasted together with the boxes that protected them. The stern
turret of the black Pirate cruiser was a melting, incandescent mass as
Captain Brooke's atom-blast found its mark. Suddenly the meteor-like
vessel canted to the right and zoomed upward at the same time, then
with vertiginous speed flashed beyond the range of the Pirate's full
fire-power, leaving Koerber cursing in impotent fury. The sound of
wracking concussions died away; the unearthly ascending whine of
the atom-blasts ceased, and the cruiser flashed back to base.
"At least we'll have a choice this time where to set the ship down,"
Lieutenant Jeffery said wryly, as he watched the changed scene on
the V-screen before him.
Watching also, Dennis Brooke suddenly leaned forward with great
interest, but abruptly the emergency thermo-bulb flashed on and off
and a shrill buzzer sounded. Dennis threw the switch quickly.
"We'll have to set her down, Cap'n!" Scotty announced. "She's
reached the danger mark."
"Hell!" Jeffery exclaimed succinctly.
"Set her down!" Dennis ordered, but the ship was already headed
groundwards.
The air lock on the cruiser opened and the crew jumped to the
ground. It was the same bizarre landscape, harsh, Dantesque,
extreme.
"Since we've reached a temporary impasse," the Captain explained to
them, "we may at least examine something I happened to see just
prior to landing. I have a vague idea concerning this small world; it is
just possible I may be right."
"What did you see, sir?" Randall, forever impulsive and emotional,
asked, curiously apprehensive.
"You probably won't like the idea so much, Lieutenant," Captain
Brooke said quietly, shifting the weight of his atom-blast on his hip.
He smiled thinly, "We're going to investigate some of those playmates
of yours—the spheres!"
Randall's face tightened with a peculiar expression. He started to
speak, then noting Dallas' sardonic smile, he stopped.
"Just before we landed," the Captain continued, "I saw a large pit
filled with the globes up in the plateau just ahead. I want to try an
experiment. From what I saw happened with you Dallas, when you
tried to blast that globe and then threw rocks at it and it went away,
and yet, it pursued Randall ... well, I have a theory that I want to
test. If it works, we may yet turn the tables on Koerber."

With perfect confidence, Captain Dennis turned and began to stride

toward the plateau in the near distance. Without hesitation Dallas
strode behind him, followed by Scotty and Jeffery, and a few other
lesser members of the crew. Only Randall hesitated as if an awful
premonition paralyzed his steps. He seemed to make an heroic effort,
and hesitantly at first, then with greater confidence he began to
follow the leaders.
At last they were standing at the rim of the vast pit; looking down,
Dennis realized it must be all of a mile in width. It seemed filled with
clusters of the globes which vibrated gently at the bottom.
"Millions of the damned things!" Dallas exclaimed.
The pit sloped down to a point at the center of the bottom, and there
was the immense cluster of globes that Dennis had seen. From small
ones, the size of thermo-bulbs, to gigantic spheres fully six feet in
diameter, it was a pulsating, shimmering mass of changing
opalescences, a seething cauldron of prismatic hues, dormant now,
but ready to flame into living light.
Randall, the last to arrive, approached the edge and gazed down.
The ethereal, ghostly seeming spheres with their pulsating auras sent
an icy shiver of dread along his taut nerves. He shuddered and
turned to the others. "Let's go," he said hoarsely. "Those demons
might come floating up here!" There was a hysterical quality to his
voice that did not pass unnoticed to Captain Dennis, who was
observing him closely. "Let's go!" Randall cried again, his face
contorted.
Suddenly there was a stream of movement below; from the central
mass of globes, several detached themselves and floated silently
upwards in swirls of living light.
Cold, unreasoning fear surged into Randall's mind. In his hysteria, the
spheres were coming after him! His thin face with the wide, fear-
stricken blue eyes was ashen while his lips twitched to form words
that failed to come. At last he managed to scream: "Run! They're
coming after us." And Randall was racing pell-mell back to the spacer.
Captain Dennis stood his ground, Dallas beside him. "Come here, you
fool!" Dennis cried exasperated. But it was too late. With flashing
speed two of the spheres outraced Randall and now hovered over
him. They were whirling into a vortex of incredible light, lovely
beyond description, and beneath them, convulsed with horror,
Randall raced for his life.
"Action!" Dennis shouted. Instantly several atom-blasts spewed their
deadly charge into the two pursuing globes. They drank in the awful
energy charge and glowed supernally vivid, still unharmed, then,
swooping downwards they charged Randall, and the boy was fighting
them, flailing his arms wildly, haphazardly trying to fend them off.
The other members of the party had now held their fire, for Randall
was enmeshed in the luminous globes. And suddenly the globes
seemed to become part of the boy's body, enveloping it in their
translucent, fatal embrace.
Before their eyes, they saw the boyish form shrivel and fall crumpled
to the ground as if all the energy had been absorbed in that
unearthly embrace of living light. In an instant it was over.

Lazily, the two spheres floated upward, their fire deepening into
swirls of colors, swirling slowly over the prostrate figure as if exulting.
Unutterable horror showed in Captain Brooke's eyes; then flaming
anger shook him. "The dirty...." Dennis ground out the words from
set, taut lips. Furiously he began blasting at the globes. The spheres
rocked and twisted in the tortured air currents, then gradually they
rose and floated up the valley.
Dennis kneeled beside the still form of Randall; slid his hand under
the boy's jacket. He rose slowly and faced the rest of the awed crew,
his eyes topaz slits of consuming fury.
"Now we know how dangerous, how deadly those entities are; for
make no mistake, they are entities. A strange, unearthly form of life
that can suck a man's life-energy. Randall had good reason to be
afraid, poor kid! Those globes react to the most powerful of the
emotions, and fear being perhaps one of the strongest, unerringly
draws them. I feel somehow responsible for this boy's death. Still, he
has not died in vain, for in his sacrifice, he has given us a clue to
Koerber's ultimate defeat." He paused gazing somberly at the still
form at his feet: "Remember, he died a hero, for whatever success
we may have, we shall owe to him!"
Rocks iridescent and vari-hued were piled high into a cairn, making
Randall's last resting place, in the depths of the space he had feared
so.
The remaining members of the crew walked back slowly to the
waiting ship. A dark silence hung over the group as they filed to their
respective sleeping quarters. All but Captain Dennis, Dallas, Jeffery
and Scotty, who went on to their council room. Quietly they took their
places at the small table. Jeffery sat with his long hands on his lap,
silent, while Scotty methodically tamped down the Venusian tobacco
with which he had filled his blackened pipe. Dallas said nothing. His
vast bulk overflowed the seat and his tremendous chest heaved with
emotions alien to his nature. All of them seemed, to be waiting for
Captain Dennis Brooke's words. The latter sat down last, absorbed in
thought. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, sombre almost.
"I told you," he began without preamble, "that I had a vague theory
about those spheres. Well, I know now. Randall proved it this
afternoon. There can be no doubt that those globes are radio-active
—the way they react to our atom-guns leads me to believe that they
subsist on energy—radiant energy from the mineral and radio-actives
of this planetoid. Their atomic scale must be such that their
component atoms make up the two missing elements in our atomic
scale! This is the first time that man has ever encountered these two
elements. And of course, this is the first time these spheres have ever
encountered humans—organic life—on an atomic scale so far
removed from their own. Naturally they're curious. They tried to
investigate and what they encountered from Randall was fear!
Perhaps the second strongest emotion. Our fear must send out
intangible vibrations that impinge harshly upon their own vibrations
and lead them to attack. What fear arouses in them, we shall
probably never know. The fact is that our human emotion of fear in
conflict with their vibratory rate renders them fatal, and even seems
to draw them with a strange magnetic attraction!"
For a moment every one of the four was silent, as the explanation
cleared so much of the mystery before them. Then Captain Dennis
walked over to the locker where the space-suits were racked. He
began slipping into one of the bulky suits.
"I'm going outside again. If this spacer's insulation against the
spheres, there's no reason why a space-suit should not be also. Two
of you cover me from the stern turret, and two—including a crew
member, from the forward turret, you can at least delay their attack
by blasting air currents, in case they do attack!" He dogged the last
clamp into place and moved heavily through the doorway.

The men watching from the gun turrets saw Dennis approach the
vast pit which seemed to be the abode of the sphere. The face-plate
of his helmet was open. For minutes he stood motionless on the rim
of the pit. They knew he was concentrating, duplicating the emotion
of fear. Then with a catch in their throats they observed groups of the
spheres rise majestically from the depths and swoop toward the
waiting Dennis.
With a swift gesture Captain Brooke snapped the face-plate closed.
The spheres came to a complete stop about twenty feet from the
waiting captain. The globes pulsed gently, as if waiting ... waiting.
Again Dennis opened the face-plate wide, then snapped it shut. In
the brief interval the spheres had darted into action, sweeping closer.
Turning at last, Captain Dennis strode back to the ship, and slowly
the flaming globes sank back into the pit out of sight.
"It works," Scotty yelled delightedly, as the other men ran to their
airlock to greet their Captain.
Once again at the table, Dennis began: "Now we can have a definite
plan. Here's the strategy, two of us will use space-suits and rocket
belts to lure as many of the spheres as possible to a point near
Koerber's camp, and one of us must enter Koerber's domain with a
ready made story! That man, the one to enter Koerber's camp, will be
the bait for the spheres. He will concentrate on maintaining the
powerful emotion of fear in his mind, as strongly as he's able. Dennis
paused, his hazel eyes brilliant with anticipation, surveying the men
around him.
"All of us know that the chosen man may not come through this alive
—Koerber may not believe his story ... the spheres may succeed in
getting him. However, if he's clever and quick...." Captain Dennis
shrugged his great shoulders. It was then Jeffery interrupted him:
"We'll draw lots for that, won't we, Captain?" His voice was harsh.
A faint nod from Dennis accepted the question as a fact. The Captain
walked over to a cabinet and picked up something. Returning to the
table he continued:
"The fourth man will have to stay here and broadcast." He turned a
small box over on the table and several objects the size of small
coins, spilled out. "These midget speakers may or may not work—
anyway, propaganda at a psychological moment has intense effect,
and is worth trying out. The man who goes into Koerber's camp will
take some of these and get rid of them in strategic places wherever
he can. Remember, the job of broadcasting is just as important as
any other in this set up. Keep hammering at them. They won't be
able to locate the speakers until it is too late. Keep pounding into
their heads that this new weapon of the I.S.P. is invincible! Tell them
it is radio-controlled and invulnerable as far as present arms are
concerned. Keep working on them ... don't let up for a minute!"
Jeffery had been methodically tearing strips of paper and now he
handed them to Dennis.
"Three strips of paper, Captain ... and four men!"
Dennis searched the grim, tense faces before him, then handed the
strips to Scotty who picked up a book and started putting the strips
between the pages. The other members of the council watched his
back curiously, until the crash of an overturned chair snapped their
heads around. They looked squarely into the muzzle of an atom-blast
gun. Their jaws went slack with astonishment.
"I am the commander of this cruiser," Captain Brooke's voice, flat and
opaque had an unequivocal finality. "Walk over to the wall, stand five
feet from the base, lean forward and press your hands against the
wall!"
With the three men completely off balance, Dennis methodically
disarmed them. He placed all their weapons on the table, and then
proceeded to encase himself in one of the bulky space-suits, keeping
a careful eye on the fuming Dallas. As he dressed he continued to
talk.
"I know that nothing short of this could convince you to let me be the
man to enter Koerber's camp. But it's got to be this way. I swore to
enter that black cruiser if I had to take it apart, and by Venus'
thinking spiders, I'll go through with it! If Marla's there, she has to be
rescued from that cut-throat gang—besides, I think I can make up a
much more plausible story, being as I was the one in disgrace with
the I.S.P., not you!" He was dressed now, and stood for a moment
gazing at their reddened faces. "I'm leaving now, I'll dog this door
when I leave. There's an atomic welder in the locker and you can get
out in three-quarters of an hour. The rest is up to you men." He was
gone as the metal door clanged tightly shut.

Trudging along the iridescent stretch of desolate ground, the thought

uppermost in Dennis' mind was Marla. He was torn between the fear
of what that brutal, conscienceless pirate might have done to her,
and the fear she might have survived. Try as he might to reconstruct
the emotion of fear, he failed time after time. Only the dull, ceaseless
fury at Koerber remained in his mind, and his heart, a fury that
smouldered in the depths of his being.
Slowly he approached the camp where Koerber's men tried to repair
the damage his raid had made. Dennis kept his hands slightly in the
air, and his feet kept kicking a scuff of glittering dust that could be
easily noticed.
Without warning, an atom-ray blasted bits of a rocky cliff to Captain
Brooke's right and an invisible voice boomed out:
"Hold it, copper!" There was a noticeable awe in that voice and it
made Dennis smile. The scum remembered, it seemed!
Dennis stopped abruptly. "I'll talk to Koerber," he said coldly.
"Hold it right where you are, Captain Koerber's coming outside," the
same voice shouted.
Cautiously Dennis let another of the midget speakers fall to the
ground behind him.
The circular airlock opened and a ladder descended automatically.
Down the steps came a short, heavy-set man. His aquiline features
would have been handsome because of their symmetry, and the pale
olive skin tanned by the vast spaces, but for the perpetual sneer that
twisted rather full lips. Koerber's wide set eyes, were dark, brilliant,
and just now had a sort of incredulous amusement, as if the
spectacle of Captain Dennis Brooke come to parley with him were
something quite too fantastic to believe.
"Well ... well! This is a land of miracles!" He flashed a sardonic smile,
displaying white, even teeth.
"Considering my reputation for ... er ... shall we say dishonor?" He
smiled again, "You are risking a great deal by coming here, aren't
you, Captain?"
Captain Brooke shrugged his vast shoulders, and a thin smile of
contempt curved his lips. "It occurs to me, Koerber, that at my age
men are neither rash nor fools ... unless the stakes are high. And," he
paused deliberately, conscious of the instant interest his words had
aroused, "and it happens that the stakes are beyond ... far beyond all
that you and I, and even the I.S.P., are worth. Man, our feet are now
on the base of a great empire!"
Interest, cupidity and astonishment mingled in the expression of
Captain Koerber's face. Finally he guffawed.
"Captain, they say that too many nights in the Jovian Chamber turns
a man's mind, I am beginning to believe it!" Then his face darkened:
"Let's finish it quick, Dennis, what're you selling?"
"A partnership in an empire, in exchange for Marla!" Dennis Brooke
said quietly but with deadly emphasis, ignoring the pointed barb.
Koerber still gazed at the space-suited figure incredulously. With an
imperious motion of his powerful hand, he motioned Captain Brooke
up the ladder, then followed at a distance, his hand on the atom-
blaster. He had not noticed Dennis drop another tiny speaker on the
ground behind.

Inside the black cruiser, Dennis was herded by two gunmen into a
spacious cabin. It was furnished in the splendor of priceless loot from
the ships of several planets. He felt his atom-blast lifted from its
holster and the indignity of exploratory fingers seeking hidden arms.
He walked past them to see Koerber seated in what had evidently
been a Martian imperial chair, a throne-like affair of priceless
hardwoods, incrusted with rare metals and jewels, and bearing a
canopy of soft, ocelandian furs, with jewelled brooches at the
corners. He sat silent, the faint satirical smile still on his lips, as if for
once in his life the very depths of his involved and merciless soul
were filled with joy, as indeed was the case. "Speak your piece!" he
said insolently, and motioned for the guards to cover the exit.
"I shall be brief," Dennis shrugged his shoulders. "Marla means more
to me than anything else. What can she be to you than just another
passing conquest? There's no satisfaction in possession without love,
Koerber—and there are other things that you would prefer!"
"For instance!" The words came like a whiplash.
"Wealth beyond even your imagination, and power ... power as you
have never even conceived could ever fall into your hands, man!"
"How do you know Marla's alive?" The sardonic grin became sadistic
in its enjoyment at the fleeting shadow of pain that crossed Dennis'
face.
"Because," Dennis spoke slowly, quietly, "she's too valuable for you to
miss the chance to ransom her. You know the I.S.P., never lets its
agents down—you knew she'd accepted an assignment, didn't you?"
"Of course, I have scouts in every planet, and means of
communication even you don't know anything about—like that scout
you knocked out on Venus," he finished venomously.
"Well?" Dennis said laconically.
"You'll have to explain better. Where's the wealth and all this power
you're talking about to come from?"
Dennis knew he was playing his last card. If the man had even a
shred of humanity, of intelligent selfishness, the way was open, if
Koerber allowed his undying hatred of the I.S.P. to dominate him,
he'd have to fight for his life.
"All right, I'll give it to you. This planetoid is full of a new radio-active
metal of such terrific power that used even in its raw state it can
supply power for speeds beyond anything known to us at present.
The reason you saw our ship before we attacked was that we used a
small specimen of the mineral and it flung us into space with such
terrific acceleration that it almost sent us beyond the planetoid's
gravity. If my navigator's hand had not fallen on the keys and
changed the course, we would have been wrecked. There are untold
billions of credits in radio-active mineral strewn on the surface. Now,
if you can't imagine what that means ... what's the use of my talking.
"It'll make us invulnerable. A few tons of this new fuel will purchase a
fleet of spacers of the first order, such as this one you have, Koerber;
and with a fleet powered by the mineral we can conquer any planet.
Power ..." Dennis laughed. "Man, we'd lord space!"
As Dennis spoke, the expression of Machiavellian greed and cunning
in Koerber's face heightened, mingled by triumph. At last his laughter,
peal after peal of cold, remorseless laughter thundered in the
luxurious cabin.
"You fool, you utter fool! You have told me this and expect me to
bargain with you! So you would share with me supreme power over
the known universe.... One reason why I've lived so long is that I
never share with anyone, and I never trust anyone, copper!" He flung
the final insult in Dennis' face, and laughed to see Dennis' eyes blaze
with murderous fury.
"Throw him in the cell!" Koerber said imperiously. Instantly the two
gunmen went into action, prodding Dennis with drawn blasters. They
drove him down a corridor to a metal cell and heaved him into it,
then left him lying on the metal floor.

VI

In the semi-darkness of the armored cell, the wicket through which

the guard could watch the prisoner was a square of light. Only, there
was no guard. Only an atomic-welder could have pierced that tough
shell—unarmed, within the pirate cruiser, surrounded by armed
guards at every exit, Dennis hadn't the ghost of a chance. He sat up
on the cold metal floor, and strove to point his mind to the task
ahead. And the last midget speaker slipped from his pocket to roll
across the floor, coming to a stop at a corner of the wall. Dennis
could not suppress a smile.
Then he heard a voice he had thought never to hear again. A wave of
feeling engulfed him.
"Dennis ... Dennis, my dear!" Framed in the wicket, the lovely
features of Marla, smiling despite the brimming eyes, smiling at him
in encouragement. His heart leapt upwards as if it would leave his
body, as he rose in a single bound and was at the wicket, kissing
hungrily the exquisite lips. He could not speak, for seconds, that
Marla was alive was that his heart could wish. For a moment he was
weak with the tremendous reaction. "You're safe ... safe ... not hurt
... Marla," he was incoherently repeating.
"Quick," Marla cautioned. "Take this!" She slipped a deadly atom-
blast, the smaller variety once carried by women into his hand. "They
never found it on me—being a woman I have prerogatives. I have
been held for ransom until now, and here on this deserted world,
having no means of escape I was allowed comparative freedom
within the ship. But I heard what you told Koerber, Dennis. Now that
he knows untold wealth is within reach of his hand, he may have
another fate in store for me. For the past few days he has been
changing ... becoming amorous. I know he's trying to win me, Dennis
... as only a woman can know!"
"Take this blaster back ... and use it!" Dennis said fiercely.
"No need," she smiled, her eyes luminous. "I have a better way. I'll
not be harmed, Dennis." She kissed him as if all her heart were in
that kiss, despite the vertical bars that divided them, then she was
gone, leaving behind the faint fragrance that she always wore, like a
scent in the garden ways, or an echo in the wind.
One last card remained to him. One last venture wherein his life
would hang from so slender a thread, and yet.
He began to scream and shout with a passion that raised
reverberating echoes in the enclosing metal cell. Almost immediately
the metal door opened with a bang, and the powerful figure of
Koerber flanked by guards with drawn atom-blasts was silhouetted in
the light.
"Have you gone space-crazy, you rat?" Koerber growled through
clenched teeth. "What's the racket for?"
"You double-crosser," Dennis spat like an animal at bay, "if I have to
be caged like this, after telling you about my discovery, at least you
could let me have some air. You've got the air rectifiers shut off in
here, and it's worse than in the caves! Want me to choke?"
"Haw!" One of the guards guffawed. "That's real good, boss ... saves
us the trouble of shooting 'im!"
"Shut up!" Koerber rumbled. "Double-crosser, eh? What made you
think I'd cut you in on the discovery? But you've given me an idea!
Branche ... Jennings! Truss him up and carry him out to the cave.
The radio-active minerals'll take care of him better'n anything else."
His sadistic nature gloated on the thought of Dennis' gradual
disintegration as the powerful radio-active vibrations bombarded his
being.
Koerber's smile was like a feline caress, but his eyes were feral in the
ecstasy of his triple triumph. He had Marla, the wealth and power of
a new universe before him, and, his greatest enemy condemned to a
horrible death.
Thoroughly trussed, they carried Dennis to the entrance to the cave
system where the radio-active minerals were in greatest abundance.
Then they threw him carelessly on the rough, rocky ground.
"I can watch you from here," Koerber said silkily, "as you slowly rot
away. We'll be working on the spacer for at least four more hours
before we blast off, time enough for the effects of the radiations to
begin to show, eh Dennis?"
There was no doubt in Captain Brooke's mind what would happen to
Marla, and to the I.S.P. cruiser when Koerber was ready to leave. The
monstrous egotism of the man demanded a series of triumphs, for he
already saw himself as a supreme ruler. He watched the guards walk
back to the cruiser, where most of the crew were engaged in final
repairs, and he was glad, fiercely glad, so he could concentrate. All
the fear he felt for Marla, all the horror at the murder of his comrades
and the destruction of his cruiser, and the vast, awful vision of a
universe ruled by a sadistic madman, utterly evil, began to flood into
his mind as he willed himself to emotionally see these things realized.
Suddenly he was aware that through auto-suggestion, he was
beginning to feel fear, real fear! He thought of the luminous spheres
... there was something monstrous about them ... the way they
sucked the life-energy from poor Randall. He continued to elaborate
and build up a crescendo of horror. A blast of thunder from Koerber's
ship shook the cave.

The distant sun was moving rapidly toward the horizon's rim, and the
swift settling twilight enhanced the spumes coming from the jets of
the black, pirate spacer. As the rumble of the warming rockets died to
a murmur, Dennis saw two guards leave the airlock of the pirate
cruiser. They were Jennings and Branche. They must be almost ready
to leave, he thought. The guards came to where he lay and roughly
jerked him to his feet then dragged him further inside the cave,
where the deadly radio-actives would really get to work on his body.
Then they dropped him unceremoniously as they turned with a start.
Like black magic, a stentorian voice had begun speaking, filling the
melancholy dusk of the eerie planetoid, as the thundering tones
seemed to come from everywhere. Ear-drums throbbing with the
vibration, the guards jerked Dennis back to the cave entrance, the
binding cords that tied Dennis becoming dangerously ragged with the
dragging over the rough ground he had endured twice.
"Bren Koerber! Attention! This is the I.S.P." The voice rolled and
echoed. "You're completely surrounded. Resistance will be futile! You
have just one minute to get your men together in front of your ship.
Throw your side-arms in a pile on the ground!"
Koerber appeared at the lock of the pirate spacer then he scrambled
down with surprising agility, followed by three of his men.
"Who in hell is playing jokes!" The pirate roared. "Come on!" He
yelled at the two guards now at the cave's entrance. "You ... Branche
... Jennings! Who's getting funny? Somebody's going to get their
heads blasted off for this!"
But instantly on the heels of Koerber's tirade, came Scotty's voice,
magnified a hundred times:
"Your time's almost up, Koerber! Fifteen seconds more and the
newest, most deadly weapon of the I.S.P. will be released against
you!"
Even though he was still concentrating on the spheres and the
emotion of fear, Dennis felt a sudden exaltation. But he brushed it
aside and continued to recreate the terrible fear that had begun to
invade his being under his relentless auto-hypnosis. Subconsciously
he could hear Scotty's sonorous voice describing the horrible,
irresistible weapon that was to be used. Scotty was doing a
magnificent job of laying it on, with variations!
Koerber gazed around in stupefaction, then spying the prone figure at
the mouth of the cave, he cursed at Dennis and then began to race
across to the trussed up figure of his enemy, but he was halted by a
hoarse shout from one of his guards:
"Boss, look! There is something coming!" The guard yelled excitedly.
Still lying on the ground, where the guards had dropped him, Dennis
could barely see the top of the cliff behind him. Over the edge, high
above the plain, swept cluster after cluster of the glowing, gloriously
shimmering spheres. A myriad rain of lavender, greens, pulsing reds
and flamboyant blues, iridescent, flaming with inward fires and
spinning ever faster the spectral globes swept downwards in the
deepening twilight with dazzling speed.
"Get the gun working, you scum!" Koerber cursed, pointing to the
portable atom-ray still remaining outside the spacer. Two men
jumped at his order and the livid ray blasted skyward. Blasting
fiercely for a few seconds, the two outlaws hesitated. Astonishment
then fear crossed their stubbled faces. The deadly ray was merely
expanding the globes, which flared into incandescent light and, kept
right on coming down!
Huge chunks out of the side of the cliff behind the zooming spheres
crashed to the plain. And still the glittering flood of glowing globes
kept flowing on. His men must have done a wonderful job of luring
the deadly spheres, Dennis thought with a part of his mind.
"Needle guns!" Koerber screamed, rushing over to the two men who
stopped firing. "Use your hand guns, men! Someone get atomite
capsules, we'll blast whatever these things are out of space!"
Picking up the heavy atom-ray, Koerber cradled it in his powerful
arms, sweeping the deadly projector in wide arcs through the
approaching, luminous mass. Suddenly, Koerber shouted again. One
of the men near the stern of the ship had dropped his weapon and
was running, horror-stricken, across the broken ground.
"Come back here, you rat!" Koerber shrieked, swinging the big atom-
ray around. But he had no need to fire, a glowing globe fully six feet
in diameter, already was pursuing the doomed, fear-maddened
creature with vertiginous speed. Koerber saw it suddenly descend
and envelop the running figure, and in seconds the outlaw was a
shrunken mass that dropped to the ground like a squeezed fruit.
 The spheres rolled down in a deadly wave.

Koerber's eyes were blazing as he whirled around and screamed at

his men: "Fight ... fight you lousy rats!" Uncontrollable passion
twisted his features in a fiendish snarl at the thought of losing the
supreme power and unimaginable wealth he had thought to be within
his grasp. His voice rose piercingly above the concussions of the
atomite capsules that at his command had been brought into action.
But unknown to him, stealthily, a growing fear was creeping into his
brain as all his efforts and the deadly fire of atom-blasts, atom-ray
and atomite capsules failed to even destroy a single globe. The
unearthly, macabre appearance of the luminous globes was already
playing havoc with the men's minds, and one by one the outlaws fled
shrieking into the darkness, to be consumed by the glowing spheres.
In the impenetrable blackness of the cave, Dennis Brooke had
stopped building the emotion of fear. With part of his mind he sought
to dispel the stubborn auto-hypnosis, and slowly, he was able to
regain a measure of normalcy. The thought of Marla helped, as with
the growing destruction of Koerber's men, he deliberately forced
himself to see her safe, in his arms. And slowly he came back out of
the abyss of fear into which he had purposely pushed his courageous
mind. It took patience, infinite patience and time, but time was
growing short. He rubbed the frayed bonds that bound his arms back
of him, against the jagged outcroppings of radio-active rock, until he
burst them with herculean strength, then it took a matter of seconds
to free his legs. Painfully he stood up, and let the blood course with
exquisite torture through his semi-paralyzed limbs. Then he sought
the tiny atom-blast Marla had given him to conceal.
The space in front of the black spacer was milling with men battling
spheres, a vortex of flaring illumination that hungrily enveloped the
maddened crew. Now and then, another man sank to the ground a
lifeless hulk. Suddenly one of the spheres came floating into the
cave, curious, attracted by the remnants of the fear vibrations and
approached Dennis. The Captain saw it enter and illuminate the
impenetrable darkness, he laughed. A few moments ago it would
have meant his life, but now he contemptuously bent down and
picking a glittering specimen of radio-active mineral flung it
unerringly at the gently spinning globe. As if the sphere weren't even
there, the I.S.P. Captain strode out of the cave. It was then he saw
his own crew, space-suited, exultant, spewing green death from their
atom-blasts at the milling remnants of what had been the scourge of
the space-lanes. Far to one side he spied Koerber, now a demoniac
figure still firing the few remaining charges left in the atom-ray. Saw
him finally drop the useless weapon and turn to fend off the
swooping spheres. In a few bounds Dennis was beside him.
At the sight of Dennis, the scowling face went black with fury. He
sprang forward with both arms jabbing like pistons. Dennis swerved
and again planted a terrific left to Koerber's solar-plexus, it almost
doubled the pirate over, but Koerber was not through. He knew death
was very close, but he meant to take with him the one man he
blamed for his defeat. He came in with a fury that swept all before
him, impervious of the rain of blows that Dennis aimed at his face,
and unleashing a right to Dennis' jaw, he put every ounce of
remaining power behind it. But the I.S.P. Captain moved slightly,
letting the blow whiz past his face, then flat-footed, he let his right
ride with the power of a sledge-hammer. Koerber's face lost contour,
a gout of dark, welling blood flooded over it and he sank to the
ground.
Suddenly Dennis' own men saw him, and came running to where he
stood planted over what remained of Koerber, pirate of the space
lanes. His chest heaving, clothes torn, he heard them as if in a
dream, as they shouted in joy at the complete victory they had
achieved. It was only when cool hands touched his face, and a
remembered fragrance was in his nostrils, that he came out of his
daze. A voice was whispering the simple words, "my dear ... my very
dear!" Slowly he gathered Marla in his arms and kissed her tenderly,
while around him, the hovering spheres sensed another emotion,
greater even than fear—but of another kind—that greatest of all
emotions, Love.

Captain Dennis chewed the end of his stylus. After a moment he

began to write again in the large metallic book:
B-XA-321
2400 SCT
The plan outlined in the previous entry was carried out.
Operation successful. Bren Koerber is being brought back a
prisoner. All members of his crew are dead. Koerber's
cruiser is being towed to Ceres Base. Full report on radio-
active mineral discovery has been radioed I.S.P.
 Headquarters, Terra. No luminous spheres captured.
Suggest scientific expedition be sent.
Casualties suffered: One. Junior Lieutenant George Randall
killed in performance of duty by one of the spheres.
Recommend heroism be recognized by posthumous
honors. Suggest Antares Cross.
Dennis Brooke, paused for a moment, uncertain whether or not to
enter in the official log book the one burning desire that dominated
his thoughts, at last he smiled and with a flourish he added:
Leave of absence for two months requested. Reason:
Marriage. Miss Marla Starland has consented to honor me
by becoming my wife.
Distantly he heard the muffled roar of the warming rockets. The
great cruiser was ready to leave the fateful Planetoid. He sighed in
vast contentment as he unplugged the stylus and gently closed the
book.
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SOUL EATERS
***

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