The Skylark of Space - E. E. Smith (e book reading free txt) 📗

under one ingot, was soon formed between the pile and the storage room.

“How much are you loading on, Dunark?” asked Seaton, when the large compartment was more than half full.

“My order called for about twenty tons, in your weight, but I changed it later⁠—we may as well fill that room full, so that the metal will not rattle around in flight. It doesn’t make any difference to us, we have so much of it. It is like your gift of the salt, only vastly smaller.”

“What are you going to do with it all, Dick?” asked Crane. “That is enough to break the platinum market completely.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” returned Seaton, with a gleam in his gray eyes. “I’m going to burst this unjustifiable fad for platinum jewelry so wide open that it’ll never recover, and make platinum again available for its proper uses, in laboratories and in the industries.

“You know yourself,” he rushed on hotly, “that the only reason platinum is used at all for jewelry is that it is expensive. It isn’t nearly so handsome as either gold or silver, and if it wasn’t the most costly common metal we have, the jewelry-wearing crowd wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. Useless as an ornament, it is the one absolutely indispensable laboratory metal, and literally hundreds of laboratories that need it can’t have it because over half the world’s supply is tied up in jeweler’s windows and in useless baubles. Then, too, it is the best thing known for contact points in electrical machinery. When the Government and all the scientific societies were abjectly begging the jewelers to let loose a little of it they refused⁠—they were selling it to profiteering spendthrifts at a hundred and fifty dollars an ounce. The condition isn’t much better right now; it’s a vicious circle. As long as the price stays high it will be used for jewelry, and as long as it is used for jewelry the price will stay high, and scientists will have to fight the jewelers for what little they get.”

“While somewhat exaggerated, that is about the way matters stand. I will admit that I, too, am rather bitter on the subject,” said Crane.

“Bitter? Of course you’re bitter. Everybody is who knows anything about science and who has a brain in his head. Anybody who claims to be a scientist and yet stands for any of his folks buying platinum jewelry ought to be shot. But they’ll get theirs as soon as we get back. They wouldn’t let go of it before, they had too good a thing, but they’ll let go now, and get their fingers burned besides. I’m going to dump this whole shipment at fifty cents a pound, and we’ll take mighty good care that jewelers don’t corner the supply.”

“I’m with you, Dick, as usual.”

Soon the storage room was filled to the ceiling with closely-stacked ingots of the precious metal, and the Skylark was driven back to the landing dock. She alighted beside Dunark’s vessel, the Kondal, whose gorgeously-decorated crew of high officers sprang to attention as the four men stepped out. All were dressed for the ceremonial leave-taking, the three Americans wearing their spotless white, the Kondalians wearing their most resplendent trappings.

“This formal stuff sure does pull my cork!” exclaimed Seaton to Dunark. “I want to get this straight. The arrangement was that we were to be here at this time, all dressed up, and wait for the ladies, who are coming under the escort of your people?”

“Yes. Our family is to escort the ladies from the palace here. As they leave the elevator the surrounding war-vessels will salute, and after a brief ceremony you two will escort your wives into the Skylark, Doctor DuQuesne standing a little apart and following you in. The war-vessels will escort you as high as they can go, and the Kondal will accompany you as far as our most distant sun before turning back.”

For a few moments Seaton nervously paced a short beat in front of the door of the space-car.

“I’m getting more fussed every second,” he said abruptly, taking out his wireless instrument. “I’m going to see if they aren’t about ready.”

“What seems to be the trouble, Dick? Have you another hunch, or are you just rattled?” asked Crane.

“Rattled, I guess, but I sure do want to get going,” he replied, as he worked the lever rapidly.

“Dottie,” he sent out, and, the call being answered, “How long will you be? We’re all ready and waiting, chewing our fingernails with impatience.”

“We’ll soon be ready. The Karfedix is coming for us now.”

Scarcely had the tiny sounder become silent when the air was shaken by an urgently-vibrated message, and every wireless sounder gave warning.

XVIII The Invasion

The pulsating air and the chattering sounders were giving the same dire warning, the alarm extraordinary of invasion, of imminent and catastrophic danger from the air.

“Don’t try to reach the palace. Everyone on the ground will have time enough to hide in the deep, arenak-protected pits beneath the buildings, and you would be killed by the invaders long before you could reach the palace. If we can repel the enemy and keep them from landing, the women will be perfectly safe, even though the whole city is destroyed. If they effect a landing we are lost.”

“They’ll not land, then,” Seaton answered grimly, as he sprang into the Skylark and took his place at the board. As Crane took out his wireless, Seaton cautioned him.

“Send in English, and tell the girls not to answer, as these devils can locate the calls within a foot and will be able to attack the right spot. Just tell them we’re safe in the Skylark. Tell them to sit tight while we wipe out this gang that is coming, and that we’ll call them, once in a while, when we have time, during the battle.”

Before Crane had finished sending the message the crescendo whine of enormous propellers