Islands of Space - John W. Campbell (pdf to ebook reader TXT) 📗
- Author: John W. Campbell
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“I am sorry, man of Earth,” replied Torlos. “I can only say that I did not fully understand the effect the rays would have. I did not know how long we would remain invisible; the thing has been accomplished in our laboratories, but only for fractions of a second, and I feared we might become visible soon. That was one of their latest battleships, equipped with a new, secret, and very deadly weapon. I do not know exactly what the weapon is, but I knew that ship could be deadly against us, and I wanted to make sure we were not attacked by it. That is why I used the beam while your ship was invisible.
“And I did not intend to destroy the city. I was only trying to tear up the factory that builds these battleships; I only wanted to destroy their machines. I had no conception of the power of that ray. I was as horrified to see the city disappear as you were; I only wanted to protect my people.” Torlos smiled bitterly. “I have lived among these treacherous people for many years, and I cannot say that I had no provocation to destroy their city and everyone in it. But I had no intention of doing it, Earthman.”
Arcot knew he was sincere. There could be no deception when communicating telepathically. He wished he had used it when communicating with the Commanding One of Sator; the trouble would have been stopped quickly!
“You still do not have any conception of the magnitude of the power of that beam, Torlos,” Arcot told him. “With the rays of this ship, we tore a sun from its orbit and threw it into another. What you did to that city, we could do to the whole planet. Do not tamper with forces you do not understand, Torlos.
“There are forces on this ship that would make the energies of your greatest battleship seem weak and futile. We can race through space a billion times faster than the speed of light; we can tear apart and destroy the atoms of matter; we can rip apart the greatest of planets; we can turn the hurtling stars and send them where we want them; we can curve space as we please; we can put out the fires of a sun, if we wish.
“Torlos, respect the powers of this ship, and do not release its energies unknowingly; they are too great.”
Torlos looked around him in awe. He had seen the engines—small, apparently futile things, compared with the solid might of the giant engines in his ship—but he had seen explosive charges that he knew would split any ship open from end to end bounce harmlessly from the smooth walls of this ship. He had seen it destroy the fleet of magnetic ships that had formed a supposedly impregnable guard around the mightiest city of Sator.
Then he himself had touched a button, and the giant city had shot off into space, leaving behind it only a screaming tornado and a vast chasm in the crust of the blasted planet.
He could not appreciate the full significance of the velocities Arcot had told him about—he only knew that he had made a bad mistake in underrating the powers of this ship! “I will not touch these things again without your permission, Earthman,” Torlos promised earnestly.
The Ancient Mariner drove on through space, rapidly eating up the millions of miles that separated Nansal from Sator. Arcot sat in the control room with Morey discussing their passenger.
“You know,” Arcot mused, “I’ve been thinking about that man’s strength; an iron skeleton doesn’t explain it all. He has to have muscles to move that skeleton around.”
“He’s got muscles, all right,” Morey grinned. “But I see what you mean; muscles that big should tire easily, and his don’t seem to. He seems tireless; I watched him throw those men one after another like bullets from a machine gun. He threw the last one as violently as the first—and those men weighed over three hundred pounds! Apparently his muscles felt no fatigue!”
“There’s another thing,” pointed out Arcot. “The way he was breathing and the way he seemed to keep so cool. When I got through there, I was dripping with sweat; that hot, moist air was almost too much for me. Our friend? Cool as ever, if not more so.
“And after the fight, he wasn’t even breathing heavily!”
“No,” agreed Morey. “But did you notice him during the fight? He was breathing heavily, deeply, and swiftly—not the shallow, panting breath of a runner, but deep and full, yet faster than I can breathe. I could hear him breathing in spite of all the noise of the battle.”
“I noticed it,” Arcot said. “He started breathing before the fight started. A human being can fight very swiftly, and with tremendous vigor, for ten seconds, putting forth his best effort, and only breathe once or twice. For another two minutes, he breathes more heavily than usual. But after that, he can’t just slow down back to normal. He has used up the surplus oxygen in his system, and that has to be replaced; he has run into ‘oxygen debt’. He has to keep on breathing hard to get back the oxygen surplus his body requires.
“But not Torlos! No fatigue for him! Why? Because he doesn’t use the oxygen of the air to do work, and therefore his body is not a chemical engine!”
Morey nodded slowly. “I see what you’re driving at. His body uses the heat energy of the air! His muscles turn heat energy into motion the same way our molecular beams do!”
“Exactly—he lives on heat!” Arcot said. “I’ve noticed that he seems almost cold-blooded; his body is at the temperature of the room at all times. In a sense, he is reptilian, but he’s vastly more efficient and greatly different
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