Part 4

Smiling still, although inwardly disgusted at the eternal suspicion of the various worlds, he slowly drew an Astrograph from his tunic, silencing them as their suspicious curiosity was aroused.

"As I already hinted," he said affably, "I'm afraid all of you are slightly behind the times. Let me read you this message from ... _your_ planet, Vermil!" Antaran nodded to the Neptunian Diplomat. "It's a message via Ethero-radio sent us copied from the original Astrograph Neptune received from outer space:

"Combined Fleet reports sighting Spacer enter Saturn's atmosphere. Mathematics of orbital maneuver computed. Will correlate to attempt duplication. Astro-radio messages from Spacer indicate planet inhabited."

Electrified, their faces ludicrous, they stood before the white-haired leader in silence.

"Everyone of our Governments is now aware of this." Antaran said in kindly tones. "We've had to maintain the utmost secrecy, for if the billions that people the various worlds had learned what we were up against, there would have been panics, upheavals ... it would have been the signal for inimical minds among the '_have-nots_' to attempt the age-old cycle. Remember, Gentlemen ... excepting the Panadurs," he gazed with veiled admiration at the Ambassador of that mysterious race, "none of the rest of us have lost their Will to Battle ... which perhaps," he added as an after-thought, with a sort of brooding amusement, "is just as well!"

They were still dazed, as the tremendous implications of Antaran's words filled their minds.

A new planet had been added to their group. A new world had come into being. '_Inhabited_,' the Astrograph had read! And it was a fabulous world next in size only to Jupiter and the Sun. It would revolutionize their economy, possibly add illimitable riches in raw materials and.... But their minds were too filled with the staggering prospects to visualize just now the stupefying reality of what it meant to open up Saturn.

All belligerence was forgotten. Each emissary from the various worlds had withdrawn into his individual shell, lest the thundering ideas that swirled in their minds become common property.

The eternal game for favored position would begin soon, Antaran knew, yet Saturn was still an _unknown_ quantity. Opening a new world was far from being as easy as that. Perhaps all their fleets might never return, and other expeditions would have to go forth. He sighed a little. And it occurred to him that perhaps he was getting old.

IV

"Hurry them!" Bill's thoughts crackled at the Martian expert in charge of ordnance. "I want no refinements--give me good, old fashioned atomo-cannon with the greatest possible concussion. Power them to emit shattering volumes of sound upon discharge!"

The Martian's violet eyes widened. "A complete reversal of all trends, Commander!" he exclaimed mentally. "But it shall be done immediately." He withdrew slightly mystified.

An intolerable net of violet fire enveloped the Spacer, as the maneuvering globes enlarged the pyramid to avoid the upward rush of the great ship. Up, and up the flashing cruiser sped through the screaming air, and the enveloping net of rays from the alien globes. And suddenly it levelled off and belched its answer. From myriad hidden points, huge dark masses catapulted into space, as the spacer instantly rose above them in a burst of acceleration.

With frightful accuracy, the ghastly fingers of livid fire that criss-crossed the violet net, swung from the globes to meet this new menace before it could shower among them, and the dark masses exploded into a holocaust of sound that sped through the riven air at the frightful speeds Saturn's atmosphere induced. Like leaves in a great wind the fiery globes tossed and whirled, breaking formation. But again they reformed, maintaining the pyramid with mathematical precision, and the ghastly, violet web of intolerable power deepened, intensified until it was a glowing amethyst hue, and the spears of livid fire probed like cosmic lances at the frantically maneuvering spacer.

"The Multi-Energon Screen's a blessing, Commander--how long we shall be able to enjoy it, is the problem," Nydron observed drily. "I'm convinced this is a battle where logistics have no value."

Bill Nardon's features went taut. The calmer Nydron appeared, the greater the nature of the crisis. He favored his military expert with a long, searching glance. Into the pause, the Martian Aide's thoughts intruded anxiously:

"Surely, the Energon screen's not faltering!" It was unthinkable.

"No, but at the rate it's consuming energy in warding off that electronic barrage, it's but a question of time until we're left with a mechanical and mathematically perfect screen dead from lack of power!"

"And, you had in mind, Nydron...?" Bill was aware the great military expert had something to propose. Only, Nydron's strategy was never orthodox, and quite often overwhelming.

Nydron shrugged his shoulders and inhaled deeply of a pungent Venusian cigarette. "We've reached a stalemate. Those fiends out there," he gestured towards the Globes, "can't penetrate our screen, but they can detonate our strato-bombs at will. The question is, which source of power will last longer, theirs or ours!" He paused, and puffed again.

"Every soldier knows death's to be expected sooner or later--it's part of our creed. But you've brought a shipful of master minds, doubtless of irreplaceable value to the Inter-Planetary League. Now, if these were purely a military expedition ..." He left the rest unsaid.

"In that event, what would you do?" Bill strove to be as patient as he could, for Nydron was allowing only those thoughts he wanted, to trickle through.

"Employ the sub-atomic Dispersal Beam to penetrate their defensive screen, pick off individual Globes and launch radiant energy bombs as close as possible, and see if that doesn't take care of their ... what you termed their Achilles Heel. Of course," he murmured softly, "that _might hasten our end_, by using up our reserves of power all the sooner."

"Sub-atomic dispersal beam!" the Martian went stiff. "Why, that might be an Energon neutralized ... you mean to say that Terra...!"

"Naturally." Nydron seemed to be enjoying himself. "What else could it be? You didn't think Terra was going to remain wholly helpless? Every poison has an antidote. However, it has not been tried as yet."

It was as brilliant and ruthlessly simple a plan, as only Nydron's mind could conceive.

* * * * *

From what Bill Nardon had witnessed in the silent city's tower, he had correlated the Cinnabarian's hyper-sensitivity to vibration. The strange being had died from the concussion of the atomo-pistol. No wonder they even filtered mental vibrations through a docile, captive mind before they permitted the telepathed messages to reach them. Bill had demanded atomo-cannon with intensified detonative power, but this--this plan to strip them of their protective screen and spray them with radiant energy bombs which continued to detonate until the last minute spark was released--if it worked, it was the answer to their problem. The danger was very great, Bill knew. But in seconds he weighed the involved factors, and found only one definitive answer. He gave it.

"Nydron," Bill said formally. "You're in absolute military charge of strategy, answerable to no one--not even to me! Your plan should make history. Every scientific mind on this ship, is at your disposal if needed. I told you which was their weakest link.... I think you've found the answer. While you give the necessary orders, I'm going to visit the clinic. The Juvenalian treatment should by now permit my questioning the _Aurean_ girl safely. There are a few points not quite clear in my mind," he smiled. "It would be a dreadful thing to die and never know the complete answer to this mystery."

But Nydron was not interested in mysteries. His lambent eyes glowed with inner fires, as he bowed in the ceremonial manner to the Scientist-in-Chief, who had placed absolute command in his hands.

If there were the barest chance of victory, he would seize it. He knew that regardless of the outcome, the immortality of his name was assured, but if he won, this would be a victory unparalleled in the annals of their worlds. "It is a great honor, Commander," he said simply. "The greatest I have known. The Absolute willing, we shall win!"

Without wasting a single precious second, Nydron began issuing orders, sharp, definitive. The Dispersal Beam projectors swung into place, and the new radiant energy missiles, contributed by the Panadurs, took the place of the Strato-bombs. Battle-crews awaited tense and grim the initial frightful blast, for neither one nor the other had been tried before, and the combination of the Dispersal Beam and Radiant-energy Bombs was awe inspiring. Meanwhile the spacer maneuvered with vertiginous speed close to the eastern wall of Globes that formed a side of the quadrilateral, inverted pyramid. And then began the weirdest chase witnessed by man. For as the pyramid sought to expand to avoid the hurtling ship, the spacer accelerated suddenly and focused twin beams of light that became concentric yellow whorls of disintegrating, radio-active energy. It bathed two globes briefly, and simultaneously, a shower of bombs sped unerringly to their mark.

The stupendous concussion rocked even their spacer, as the Radiant-energy Bombs burst in a hellish burst of fire that no human eyes could endure, as if a new sun had been born in the skies. Where the globes had been, nothing remained, and those that had been close nearby, and had been touched by the yellow vortex of the beams, were spinning, lurching out of control in a headlong dive towards the shining sea below.

A great cry of joy went up within the Terran ship, fierce and terrible, as the battle-crews achieved first kill.

But instantly the pyramid shifted globes and closed the gap, and the amethyst-hued net of unimaginable force deepened again until it became almost black. And then a lengthening beam of milky-whiteness shot out of the globe at the apex, probing, relentless ... and wherever it touched, gigantic tongues of flame licked upwards along its length, as it consumed the screen's energy.

Nydron knew how limitless was the power of that white beam. And too, how close their margin was. From every projector he had the Dispersal Beam bathe as many globes as possible, and then the radiant energy bombs lashed out.

Saturn seemed to reel. The pyramid was riven, even as the spacer was tossed like a row-boat on a stormy sea. A deafening crescendo of titanic sound flowed over the planet, and coruscating walls of fire enveloped space, as if the titanic rings of Saturn had spilled over into the stricken world.

And relentlessly, the emerald-tinged yellow vortex of the beams continued to be focused on the Cinnabarian globes, while the unbroken salvos of sound went on endlessly until the last fragment of radiant energy was consumed in its own supernal fire, and globes fell like shooting stars.

* * * * *

"We've never known what galaxy spawned them," Margalida, the _Aurean_ girl said slowly, in a vibrant contralto that was like the deepest tones of a violin. She shuddered as some unnameable horror of the Cinnabarians flowed through her mind. "But ultimately it was we who unknowingly opened the door to them. They must have been waiting for aeons to enter our Universe ... only, they didn't quite know how to manipulate the forces necessary to use hyperspace. We did that for them." The silence in the Juvenal chamber was almost a tangible thing.

"You understand the secrets of hyperspace?" There was a Universe of awe in Bill Nardon's tones. "Our greatest scientists hardly dare experiment with the principles involved as yet!"

"Not I, of course," Margalida gave him a wan smile, "but our scientists ... there are hardly a dozen left, at peace in the deathless sleep. According to your time, this happened over a century ago. I had not come into being then, for I was born in slavery under the rule of the _Energasts_." She pronounced the strange word conveying a mental picture of the four-tentacled overlords.

"For centuries my people had listened to the vibrations of your Astrographs, faint, almost undecipherable, but as time passed, we learned your languages, your customs, recorded even the ages of warfare that swept your planets like a plague. But we could not reach you--oh, we knew the principles of space flight, but always the gravitational balance of the 'Rings' stopped us; it was a sidereal barrier that seemed impossible to surmount. Strange, we achieved the mathematical formula for orbital flight simultaneously with the breaching of hyperspace. And then it was too late, for in trying to reach you by the shortest possible route, we opened the doors on a Universe that ... that...." But she couldn't go on. The tangible horror of those alien beings who had invaded Saturn overcame her.

Bill Nardon waited until the spasm was over. Then, very gently he inquired: "But with a science so magnificent that you could use hyperspace, surely you must have had weapons that would make ours seem like toys?"

Margalida shook her exquisite head. "Weapons! The very memory of such a thing has been erased from the race consciousness of my people, Terran. It would be so utterly unthinkable for us to slay _anything_, that I doubt if I could make you understand how utterly alien to us such an act would be. For ages and ages no _Aurean_ has taken life ... our will--literally--could not function in that direction. We managed to close the gap, for as you doubtless know, hyperspace is not exactly an energy field, but related to it, and so long as there is matter in gaseous state at both terminals of the orifice, a gap can be repaired in a very brief time cycle. But already it was too late. Hordes of _Energasts_ had rushed through from Cinnabar, slaying, drinking our life-energy in a horrible thirst for the divine fire. Entire cities were left deserted, drained of all life, while every living thing in our world came under their power.

"Millions fled to the uninhabited parts of the planet, crossing the immense oceans of lava in a molten state that provide the necessary heat to maintain life, thinking that perhaps the invaders could not follow. At last, my people made their last stand here, in this valley, and built _Sonara_, the city where you found me, and we made a pact that every _Aurean_ would submit to cataleptic sleep at the first sign of the _Energasts_.

"But even in that they defeated us. They took us by surprise, bridging the lava oceans in their globes, and enslaving all that had no time to go into catalepsis. Only three million remain now--the sleeping ones. All the rest, and the generations that were born to them, perished in the 'Kiss.' I'm one of the conscious few, for the Energasts needed some of us for telepathic transmission. Vibration, as you now know, is their death.

"_Down in the depths of that great sea_ they've built their cities, where preparations for the invasion of your planets has gone on for fifty of your years."

"But couldn't you have made some sort of compromise? Murder on such a vast scale seems pointless, even if they're vampires of life!" Bill Nardon was puzzled.

"Compromise!" A tragic smile lifted the corners of the carven lips. "Yes, we had our choice--although to us there was no alternative--to serve as an invading army to conquer your planets ... or die!" The _Aurean_ girl was silent as if nothing more need be said.

* * * * *

A vast astonishment held Bill mute, and something akin to a boundless admiration. Here was a people so high in the mental and spiritual scale, that rather than offer resistance and kill, had carried passive resistance to the ultimate point--to the ultimate oblivion even, of catalepsis!

"Would you care to watch the battle?" Bill Nardon asked softly. "Perhaps it will repay you for the agonies you've undergone. I'm sure those four-armed vampires are going to get a taste of their own medicine they're never likely to forget!"

A strange light came into the girl's eyes, something like the ghost of an incalculable past, but she sighed smiling, and shook the golden head that seemed to be crowned with an aura of light.

As Bill stood unwilling to go, held by the glory of the amazing _Aurean_ being, the tele-panel in the communications quadrangle glowed into life, and the voice of Nydron himself broke the spell:

"Commander, we're about to begin!" That was all. It was so characteristic of the man. The screen went blank, and Bill Nardon pivoted towards the door enroute to the control room.

The broad shining sea below was a maelstrom of fury, as if convulsed by submarine volcanoes, as the spinning globes hurtled into its depths. Mountainous spouts of the shimmering liquid seemed to be reaching their descending spacer. Towards the far horizon, the rapidly receding outline of a few surviving spheres raced in pell-mell flight. Silence reigned, but for the tortured heaving of the lashing waves.

"Land as close to the city as possible!" Bill Nardon directed. "And, cut all screens, we'll need every ounce of power." His face was gray, for he needed no experts to tell him what the battle had cost them in energy output. Still, they were alive. Horribly battered and drained to the point of exhaustion, but alive ... that was the miracle! But now, he had the horrible feeling of a Commander whose base has been destroyed. Where refuel? Where obtain the precious energy to withstand another assault? Bill knew this was not the end. What Cinnabarians still remained in those fathomless depths would never rest until the spacer and all within it was erased from Saturn's face.

Bill thought with a grimace of all those inter-planetary spacers that had vanished without trace. "Without Energon Screens, without the invulnerable Vulcanite or the Dispersal Beam, they never had the ghost of a chance...!" he exclaimed inwardly, and his long, vise-like hands slowly knotted at his sides. Beads of perspiration rolled down his cheeks as he concentrated on finding a solution to their problem.

The staccato sound of the landing signal swept through the ship as they prepared to make contact. In the near distance the great city shone under the illumination of the rings, enveloped in the sepulchral silence of its cataleptic legions.

Bill's eyes widened as the thought slowly evolved into ordered processes in his mind. "The _Aureans_...." Involuntarily he spoke aloud. "Hyperspace!" If he could awaken even one of those remaining ancients who knew the secret of hyperspace, he might contact Terra, or one of the inhabited planets. Hope rose like an exultant flame, and he hurried to the Juvenal chamber where Margalida recovered.

At the doorway of the control room, he almost collided with Freml, the Panadur, and it suddenly occurred to Bill he had not seen the silvery Psycho-synthetist for some time.

"Where have you been? Under the treatment?" Bill inquired.

"Of course not!" Freml telepathed disdainfully. "What need have I of such crude methods? As soon as I awoke I left the chamber ... my people supplied some energy, I needed nothing else. But you're hurrying...."

"To the Juvenal Chamber. We have no time to waste!" Bill flashed. "If we can awaken one of those cataleptic _Aurean_ scientists, we may get from him the necessary equations to use hyperspace, Freml.... It means we can contact our worlds ... obtain aid!"

"Perhaps I can help," the Panadur thought slowly. "It should not be so difficult to bring them back to conscious life."

He followed Bill into the hushed atmosphere of the Juvenal, his own mind strangely blanked as he communicated with the other Panadurs aboard. It was their way, mysterious, aloof.

And now that the screens were down, the subtle, all-pervading vibrations of the Cinnabarians had commenced again.

* * * * *

They would have to don Energon helmets, Bill thought wearily. It was a battle without end. But the sight of Margalida was to him like the sight of an eden seen from the bleak monotony of desert wastes. His electric-blue eyes kindled as the girl smiled, a question in her eyes. She extended a fragile hand that might have been carven of Jadite, and in the husky voice with the harp-like cadences she said:

"I know you've won ... and for the first time in my life, I have been glad to know that beings have died!"

It was as near as she could come to exult in the extinction of the dreaded _Energasts_.

"You're improving!" Bill's face was illumined by a dazzling smile. "I'm afraid that if you're among us for some time, in the end you'll share our atavistic instincts; even Freml here can blast a hellion out of existence when the need arises," he said with a bright glance to the Panadur. "However, we need your help, Margalida. We want to awaken at least one, more if possible, of the remaining scientists in the deathless sleep. Do you know where they are? Can you direct us to them?"

"Yes," she assented gravely. "They sleep in the second tower, where the traction beams that captured the ships of space for the _Energasts_, are located. I will lead you to them."

"Bring your fellow Panadurs, Freml, we shall need them," Bill telepathed. "This will have to be done with all possible precautions--any moment there may be another attack." A little pulse at the base of his throat trembled as he gazed at Margalida.

The burning roses that were the stars had paled a little, before all the preparations were completed and they were ready to leave the ship. Only Nydron and his battle-crews, with several of the lesser scientists were to remain, for this might be the only chance they would have to wrest the secret from the dormant minds. And then there was Margalida, nothing must happen to her. So Bill Nardon left nothing to chance. Even the austere Juvenal surgeon was to go along, and a protective bodyguard of Mercurian Amazons, power-rapiers and all--bristling with lethal weapons.

These last were the most eager of all. Seeing them in their bulky, serried ranks, Bill Nardon flashed them a clear, blue glance and grinned. The mental picture of these ruthless creatures tangled in mortal combat with the taloned _homunculi_ of the _Energasts_, would have astonished the gods.

But all their preparations were in vain, for suddenly the Ethero-Magnum screen began to glow in the control room, as other screens glowed in the stately central cabin, in the Juvenal Chamber, and even upon the walls of the battle-stations so that what one saw, was the property of all. The sound of indrawn breaths sounded explosive in the stillness; an unbearable tension made the atmosphere electric.

For one agonized instant, no one dared to hope--an anticlimax would have been terrible to endurances that had been tested to the breaking point. In this planet of contradictions and alien madness, _anything_ was possible.

Out of the misty darkness of outer space, the streaks of silver that were ships flashed headlong into the monstrous embrace of Saturn, wheeling over the planet's outermost gravitational limits, in awe-inspiring orbital fall. The strange tug-of-war between the pull of the vast rings, and the giant planet itself, must be neutralized. Swinging in tremendous arcs to lessen the speed they hadn't dared diminish in space, they came in roaring with all braking rockets flaming in great blasts. Behind them, still more silver streaks came into view.

For an awful moment it seemed as if the forces against them would defeat the ships. They seemed to hang static in space, as they turned the night of Saturn red with the furious cataracts of rocket fire. And then--

"They're going to make it. They are!" Bill Nardon exulted fiercely.

V