Specimens

: Triplanetary

Only too well founded was Costigan's conviction that the submarine of

the deep-sea fishes had not been able to prevail against Nerado's

formidable engines of destruction. For days the Nevian lifeboat with its

three Terrestrial passengers hurtled through the interstellar void

without incident, but finally the operative's fears were realized--his

far-flung detector screens reacted; upon his observation plate lay

revealed Nerado's mammoth space-ship, in full pursuit of its fleeing

lifeboat!



"On your toes, folks--it won't be long now!" Costigan called, and

Bradley and Clio hurried into the tiny control room.



Armor donned and tested, the three Terrestrials stared into the

observation plates, watching the rapidly enlarging pictures of the

Nevian space-ship. Nerado had traced them and was following them, and

such was the power of the great vessel that the nearly inconceivable

velocity of the lifeboat was the veriest crawl in comparison to that of

the pursuing cruiser.



"And we've hardly started to cover the distance back to Tellus. Of

course you couldn't get in touch with anybody yet?" Bradley stated,

rather than asked.



"I kept on trying until they blanketed my wave, but all negative.

Thousands of times too far for my transmitter. Our only hope of reaching

anybody was the mighty slim chance that our super-ship might be prowling

around out here already, but it isn't, of course. Here they are!"



Reaching out to the control panel, Costigan shot out against the great

vessel wave after wave of lethal vibrations, under whose fiercely

clinging impacts the Nevian defensive screens flared white; but,

strangely enough, their own screens did not radiate. As if contemptuous

of any weapons the lifeboat might wield, the mother ship simply defended

herself from the attacking beams, in much the same fashion as a wildcat

mother wards off the claws and teeth of her spitting, snarling kitten

who is resenting a touch of needed maternal discipline.



"They probably won't fight us, at that," Clio first understood the

situation. "This is their own lifeboat, and they want us alive, you

know."



"There's one more thing we can try--hang on!" Costigan snapped, as he

released his screens and threw all his power into one enormous pressor

beam.



The three were thrown to the floor and held there by an awful weight, as

if the lifeboat darted away at the stupendous acceleration of the beam's

reaction against the unimaginable mass of the Nevian sky-rover; but the

flight was of short duration. Along that pressor beam there crept a dull

rod of energy, which surrounded the fugitive shell and brought it slowly

to a halt. Furiously then Costigan set and reset his controls, launching

his every driving force and his every weapon, but no beam could

penetrate that red murk, and the lifeboat remained motionless in space.

No, not motionless--the red rod was shortening, drawing the truant craft

back toward the launching port from which she had so hopefully emerged a

few days before. Back and back it was drawn; Costigan's utmost efforts

futile to affect by a hair's breadth its line of motion. Through the

open port the boat slipped neatly, and as it came to a halt in its

original position within the multilayered skin of the monster, the

prisoners heard the heavy doors clang shut behind them, one after

another.



And then sheets of blue fire snapped and crackled all about the three

suits of Triplanetary armor--the two large human figures and the small

one were outlined starkly in blinding blue flame.



"That's the first thing that has come off according to schedule."

Costigan laughed, a short, fierce bark. "That is their paralyzing ray;

we've got it stopped cold, and we've each got enough iron to hold it

forever."



"But it looks as though the best we can do is to stalemate," Bradley

argued. "Even if they can't paralyze us, we can't hurt them, and we are

heading back for Nevia."



"I think Nerado will come in for a conference, and we'll be able to make

terms of some kind. He must know what these Lewistons will do, and he

knows that we'll get a chance to use them, some way or other, before he

gets to us again," Costigan asserted confidently--but again he was

wrong.



The door opened, and through it there waddled, rolled, or crawled a

metal-clad monstrosity--a thing with wheels, legs, and writhing

tentacles of jointed bronze; a thing possessed of defensive screens

sufficiently powerful to absorb the full blast of the Triplanetary

projectors without effort. Three brazen tentacles reached out through

the ravening beams of the Lewistons, smashed them to bits, and wrapped

themselves in unbreakable shackles about the armored forms of the three

human beings. Through the door the machine or creature carried its

helpless load, and out into and along a main corridor. And soon the

three Terrestrials, without armor, without arms, and almost without

clothing, were standing in the control room, again facing the calm and

unmoved Nerado. To the surprise of the impetuous Costigan, the Nevian

commander was entirely without rancor.



"The desire for freedom is perhaps common to all forms of animate life,"

he commented, through the transformer. "As I told you before, however,

you are specimens to be studied by the College of Science, and you shall

be so studied in spite of anything you may do. Resign yourselves to

that."



"Well, say that we don't try to make any more trouble; that we

co-operate in the examination and give you whatever information we can,"

Costigan suggested. "Then you will probably be willing to give us a ship

and let us go back to our own world?"



"You will not be allowed to cause any more trouble," the amphibian

declared, coldly. "Your co-operation will not be required. We will take

from you whatever knowledge and information we wish. In all probability

you will never be allowed to return to your own system, because as

specimens you are too unique to lose. But enough of this idle

chatter--take them back to their quarters!"



And back to their inter-communicating rooms the prisoners were led under

heavy guard.



True to his word, Nerado made certain that they had no more

opportunities to escape. All the way back to far-distant Nevia the

space-ship sped, where at once, in manacles, the Terrestrials were taken

to the College of Science, there to undergo the physical and psychical

examinations which Nerado had promised them.



Clio and Costigan learned that the Nevian scientist-captain had not

erred in stating that their co-operation was neither needed nor desired.

Furious but impotent, the human beings were studied in laboratory after

laboratory by the coldly analytical, unfeeling scientists of Nevia, to

whom they were nothing more nor less than specimens; and in full measure

they came to know what it meant to play the part of an unknown, lowly

organism in a biological research. They were photographed, externally

and internally. Every bone, muscle, organ, vessel, and nerve was studied

and charted. Every reflex and reaction was noted and discussed. Meters

registered every impulse and recorders filmed every thought, every idea,

and every sensation. Endlessly, day after day, the nerve-wracking

torture went on, until the frantic subjects could bear no more.

White-faced and shaking, Clio finally screamed wildly, hysterically, as

she was being strapped down upon a laboratory bench; and at the sound

Costigan's nerves, already at the breaking point, gave way in an

outburst of Berserk fury.



The man's struggles and the girl's shrieks were alike futile, but the

surprised Nevians, after a consultation, decided to give the specimens a

vacation. To that end they were installed, together with their earthly

belongings, in a three-roomed structure of transparent metal, floating

in the large central lagoon of the city. There they were left

undisturbed for a time--undisturbed, that is, except by the continuous

gaze of the crowd of hundreds of amphibians which constantly surrounded

the floating cottage.



"First we're bugs under a microscope," Bradley growled, "then we're

goldfish in a bowl. I don't know that...."



He broke off as two of their jailers entered the room. Without a word

into the transformers, they seized Bradley and the girl. As those

tentacular arms stretched out toward Clio, Costigan leaped. A vain

attempt. In midair the paralyzing ray of the Nevians touched him and he

crashed heavily to the crystal floor; and from that floor he looked on

in helpless, raging fury while his sweetheart and his captain were

carried out of their prison and into a waiting submarine.