Читать книгу He Could Stop the World: A Doc Savage Adventure - Lawrence Donovan - Страница 3

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The shining, metal ball fell from the sky. Its terrific impact obliterated a humble citizen of Texas. The ball cracked the cement and buried itself many feet in the ground.

José Pandrosa was walking near the Alamo. Probably he was the first to meet death by the shining ball. Women screamed and fell down. Men swore and lost the red heat from their faces.

As shuddering witnesses saw it, nothing remained of Pandrosa. His body was now scarcely more than a blot of blood where he had been standing a moment before. It was fortunate for society José Pandrosa was humble. Important only to his family.

The arrival of the metal ball was the first indication of the disastrous explosion that had taken place in the stratosphere.

Other pieces of metal started raining down. They fell over an area of many square miles. Other persons fortunately escaped a direct hit. A few of the metallic objects ripped into residences of San Antonio.

A newspaperman was walking near the Alamo. He witnessed the obliteration of José Pandrosa. The reporter looked up into the burning blue of the Texas sky.

“Randolph’s sky ship!” he shouted. “Look! There’s more stuff coming down! His Silver Cylinder’s exploded!”

There was more shocked horror over this announcement than at the terrible death of José Pandrosa. Citizens instinctively ducked for the doors of taller buildings.

Nearly everyone had been reading of Professor Homer Randolph. Only twenty-four hours before, his marvelous Silver Cylinder had taken off for a fifth flight into the stratosphere. The scientist had come to be recognized as America’s foremost explorer of the upper atmosphere.

Professor Randolph had established the unbelievable height record of forty-one and a half miles above the earth.

Within a few minutes after the striking of the metal ball, the wires and the radio from San Antonio were hot with the news. By this time it had been ascertained that many parts of the great Silver Cylinder had struck the earth.

Some of the pieces were partly fused, as if by terrific heat. This might have been from the explosion itself. Or it might have been caused by the tremendous friction of the miles of descent.

Some fifteen minutes after José Pandrosa died, another ball struck inside the walls of the old Alamo itself. But this had been attached to a small parachute.

The parachute ball was hollow and could be divided. From it were taken several delicate scientific instruments.

Shortly thereafter it was announced to the world that Professor Randolph had attained a height of fifty miles when something had happened.

The shock of the news was made greater by the knowledge that forty-two well-known scientists and scholars had accompanied Professor Randolph on this catastrophic ascent. It was taken for granted all the party had been blown to atoms.

The fate of one man aboard the Silver Cylinder might not have interested the world at large so much. But news of the explosion brought the greatest shock to five of the world’s most remarkable men.

William Harper Littlejohn had been among the scientists on board Professor Randolph’s stratosphere ship. While he was not a publicized figure, among the most learned archæologists and geologists William Harper Littlejohn was perhaps known as the world’s leading authority.

Yet for all his erudition and the row of letters he might have placed after his name, William Harper Littlejohn was known to five companions as “Johnny.”

The leader of the five men who were the most grieved by news of the explosion in the stratosphere had been apparently the last man on earth to have contact with Professor Randolph’s Silver Cylinder.

When the stratosphere ship had attained a height of twenty-five miles, a shortwave radio receiver had crackled out a summons in a big laboratory. This was an amazing room. It contained hundreds of devices, the results of experiments which others in the world’s best laboratories were only beginning to attempt.

And more remarkable even than the hundreds of appliances about him was the man who manipulated the radio dials to the proper wave band. He was perhaps a head taller than the average tall man on the street.

The skin of his face and hands was of the smoothest bronze. This was the deep coloring of years of tropical sun and Arctic wind. The hair, also, was bronze, of a little lighter shade, and fitted smoothly like a mask.

This man had an intensity in his flake-gold eyes. At times, it seemed as if small whirlwinds of thought were mirrored in them. As he faced the shortwave radio dials and the message came from William Harper Littlejohn, a rare, trilling sound filled the great laboratory.

This did not seem to come from the man’s lips. It was more like a vibration emanating from his whole amazing body.

For the man was Clark Savage, Jr., known to his companions and to thousands of others as Doc Savage.

“Yes, Johnny,” he replied to the radio voice.

“This is Johnny, Doc,” came from the radio. “We are now twenty-five miles up. Professor Randolph declares he will double that. I have observed that he——”

There was no shock. No loud crackling or other disturbances. Johnny’s voice simply ceased speaking. The power of his sending apparatus might have been cut off. Though Doc stayed by the dials for several hours, no further communication came from the stratosphere.

In the laboratory with Doc Savage at this time was Major Thomas J. Roberts, otherwise known as “Long Tom.” He was the electrical wizard of the group.

“Something’s happened to Johnny, Long Tom,” Doc stated. “Or perhaps there was trouble with the power of the stratosphere ship. We shall soon have news of it.”

“I don’t care much myself for getting my feet that far off the ground,” replied Long Tom. “But Johnny would go anywhere, if he thought he could find some new element.”

Long Tom was a little man. His skin was pallid. His thinness suggested he might fall over any minute with some mortal illness. But, in reality, he was as tough as rawhide, and could handle half a dozen men bigger than himself.

Doc Savage started checking his record of Professor Randolph’s present flight. The ascent had been made from a wide plain of the Trinity River. This was between the rival Texas cities of Forth Worth and Dallas.

Great public acclaim had accompanied the take-off. Professor Randolph’s Silver Cylinder was not the balloon type of stratosphere ship. Its long, cigar-shaped envelope contained many compartments of noninflammable gas.

Besides this lifting power, the ship had other secret motive forces which could propel it upward at tremendous speed. Originally, Doc Savage had advised Professor Randolph concerning the construction of a new type of explosive air-force chambers.

Doc Savage had been a close friend of Professor Randolph for a number of years. The stratosphere scientist was youthful, in his early thirties. Somewhat like Doc, he had devoted his lifetime to scientific studies.

Hours had passed since Johnny’s interrupted message.

Suddenly, Doc’s big radio on the standard broadcast interrupted a musical program to announce:

SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN FROM SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS. THE STRATOSPHERE SHIP OF PROFESSOR HOMER RANDOLPH, WITH FORTY-TWO NOTED PERSONS ABOARD, IS REPORTED DESTROYED BY AN EXPLOSION FIFTY MILES ABOVE THE EARTH. ALL ARE BELIEVED TO HAVE PERISHED. THE SHIP ASCENDED TWENTY-SIX HOURS AGO FROM NORTHERN TEXAS NEAR FORT WORTH. MORE DETAILS LATER.

“Johnny!” said Long Tom, in an awed voice. “This is terrible, Doc! Do you suppose there could be any chance?”

“There is always the chance of first reports being erroneous,” stated Doc calmly. “Though I feared something was amiss when Johnny’s message was not completed.”

The hope that the first reports might be incorrect was not realized. Too many fused parts of the Silver Cylinder were being found over a fifty-mile area to make it possible that those on the ship fifty miles up had survived.

During this time Doc Savage had no means of knowing that Professor Randolph’s Silver Cylinder had made one mysterious descent between the time of its take-off in Northern Texas and its destruction twenty-six hours later. That temporary landing had been after Johnny’s message to Doc had been interrupted.

At the time he started his message, Johnny was in the radio room of Professor Randolph’s ship. The operator made no objection to Johnny’s desire to send a private communication.

Johnny had informed Doc they were twenty-five miles up, and had started to tell something of what he had observed. At that instant, a tall man appeared in the door of the radio room. His hand flicked a command.

The operator moved a switch. For several seconds, Johnny continued speaking, unaware he had been cut off. Then he saw the tall, blue-eyed man standing in the doorway.

Professor Homer Randolph was smiling. Though young, his face held many tiny wrinkles. But these seemed to be the marks of thought and humor.

“I deeply regret, Professor Littlejohn, but I had meant to announce no messages were to be sent at this time,” he remarked. “Please don’t be offended at being cut off.”

“You will observe, Professor Randolph, by the continuing convolutions of my risibilities, that I am not suffering with the slightest frustration,” stated Johnny solemnly, a twinkle in his eyes and a grin across a face that looked like skin drawn over the skull of a skeleton. “I was conversing with Doc.”

Johnny never used simple words when more complicated language would serve.

Randolph continued smiling.

“I know of no one I would rather communicate with myself,” he said. “Doc Savage, I believe, is the best friend I have on earth. I only hope he will understand something of what I am about to undertake.”

“There isn’t much of your experimentation that has eluded Doc’s attention,” said Johnny. “I would not be surprised if he could now describe about what we will encounter fifty miles up.”

“Neither would I,” instantly agreed Randolph. “But I imagine you will be surprised by something else later. For example, right now, I have given the word to descend.”

“Well, I’ll be superamalgamated!” exclaimed Johnny. “And I judge, from your attitude, you are not contemplating more extensive enlightenment?”

“I am keeping it somewhat of a secret,” said Professor Randolph. “Some of my guests know of it and others do not. However, I am convinced all will be pleased.”

Whether Randolph’s scholarly guests would or would not be pleased, the professor was descending the great Silver Cylinder toward the earth.

The stratosphere ship, under perfect control, bumped to a stop in the midst of an uninhabited area. Randolph ordered his guests to disembark for a short time.

“Unless I am suffering with olfactory illusion, we are in the midst of the wide-open spaces, and I would judge, in Arizona,” said Johnny to one of his companion scientists.

Tang of alkali and mesquite permeated the air. The Silver Cylinder rested easily on a vast plain. Gaunt-armed cactus reared like stripped ghosts against the night horizon.

Randolph came directly to Johnny.

“I want you, first of all, to know of my new plans,” he said pleasantly. “Because very soon I hope to have Doc Savage know and understand, and perhaps join with me in this venture.”

Professor Randolph talked rapidly, for perhaps five minutes. Until he had finished, Johnny made no comment. Now he spoke.

“Frankly, Professor Randolph, all this is the height of impossible fantasy. I could not coöperate to any degree. Should such an experiment be carried forward, you make it incumbent upon me to inform Doc. Perhaps some of your friends have deluded you into thinking such an absurdity may be possible.”

Randolph’s blue eyes still smiled pleasantly at Johnny.

“Think it over for a few minutes,” he advised, “while we are busy about our preparations.”

A few moments later, Johnny managed to separate himself from the others. Randolph and his own group of aids were clustered near the tail of the Silver Cylinder. Johnny observed that the radio operator was in the group.

Moving with infinite caution, Johnny slid into the stratosphere ship. In the radio room, he discovered the power was now on. He could only hope that the crackling of the shortwave band might not reach the ears of Randolph and his men too soon.

Johnny’s skeleton face wore a scornful grin. Privately, he believed Randolph’s successes must have gone to his head. Perhaps his overtaxed brain needed rest.

Anyway, this was something Doc Savage should know. Johnny had decided then he would slip away into the darkness. Even the wilderness of the Arizona desert must have trails he could follow. He believed several others would join him.

The shortwave tubes glowed with purple light. Johnny became intent on attempting to tune in on Doc’s special shortwave set.

“I feared as much,” came the quiet voice of Randolph behind him.