The Meeting Of The Giants

: Triplanetary

"Check your blast, Fred, I think I hear something trying to come

through!" Cleveland called out, sharply. For days the Boise had torn

through the illimitable reaches of empty space, and now the long vigil

of the keen-eared listeners was to be ended. Rodebush cut off his power,

and through the deafening roar of tube-noise an almost inaudible voice

made itself heard.



" ... all the help you can give us. Samm --Cleveland--Rodebush--anybody

of Triplanetary who can hear me, listen! This is Costigan, with Miss

Marsden and Captain Bradley, heading for where we think the sun is, from

right ascension about six hours, declination about plus fourteen

degrees. Distance unknown, but probably hundreds of light-years. Trace

my call. One Nevian ship is overhauling us slowly, another is coming

toward us from the sun. We may or may not be able to dodge it, but we

need all the help you can give us. Samms--Rodebush--Cleveland--anybody

of Triplanetary...."



Endlessly the faint, faint voice went on, but Rodebush and Cleveland

were no longer listening. Sensitive ultra-loops had been swung, and

along the indicated line shot Triplanetary's super-ship at a velocity

which she had never before even approached; the utterly

incomprehensible, almost incalculable velocity attained by inertialess

matter, driven through an almost perfect vacuum by the Boise's maximum

projector blast--a blast which would lift her stupendous normal tonnage

against a gravity five times that of earth's! At the full frightful

measure of that velocity the super-ship literally annihilated distance,

while ahead of her the furiously driven, but scarcely faster spy-ray

beam tore on in quest of the three Terrestrials who were calling for

help.



"Got any idea how fast we're going?" Rodebush demanded, glancing up for

an instant from the observation plate. "We should be able to see him,

since we could hear him, and our range is certainly as great as anything

he can have."



"No, can't figure velocity without any reliable data on how many atoms

of matter exist per cubic meter out here." Cleveland was staring at the

calculator. "It's constant, of course, at the value at which the

friction of the medium is equal to our thrust. Incidentally, we can't

hold it long. We're running a temperature, which shows that we're

stepping along faster than anybody ever computed before. Taking

Throckmorton's estimates it figures somewhere near the order of

magnitude of ten to the twenty-seventh. Fast enough, anyway, so you'd

better bend an eye on that plate. Even after you see him you won't know

anything about where he really is, because we don't know any of the

velocities involved--our own, his, or that of the beam--and we may be

right on top of him."



"Or, if we are outrunning the beam, we won't see him at all. That makes

it nice piloting."



"How are you going to handle things when we get there?"



"Lock to them and take them aboard if we're in time. If not, if they are

fighting already--there they are!"



The picture of the speedster's control room flashed upon the plate and

Costigan's voice greeted them from the speaker.



"Hello, fellows, welcome to our city! Where are you?"



"We don't know," Cleveland snapped back, "and we don't know where you

are, either. Can't figure anything without data. I see you're still

breathing air. Where are the Nevians? How much time we got yet?"



"Not enough, I'm afraid. By the looks of things they will be within

range of us in a couple of hours, and you're so far away yet that it

took our voices four minutes and about fifty seconds to make the round

trip, on the ultra! Play that on your calculator, Lyman! You haven't

even touched our detector screen yet. I'm mighty glad to have seen you

fellows again, though, anyway."



"A couple of hours!" In his relief Cleveland almost shouted the words.

"That's time to burn. We can be clear out of the Galaxy in less

than...." He broke off at a yell from Rodebush.



"Broadcast, Conway, broadcast!" that worthy had cried, as Costigan's

image had disappeared utterly from his plate.



Now he cut off the Boise's power, stopping her instantaneously in

mid-space, but the connection had been broken. Costigan could not

possibly have heard the orders to change his beam signal to a broadcast,

so that they could pick it up; nor would it have done any good if he had

heard and had obeyed. So immeasurably great had been their velocity that

they had flashed past the speedster without seeing it, even upon the

ultra-plates, and now they were unknown billions of miles beyond the

fugitives they had come so far to help--far beyond the range of any

possible broadcast. But Cleveland had understood instantly what had

happened. He now had a little data upon which to work, and his fingers

were flying over the keys of the calculator.



"Back blast, maximum, seventeen seconds!" he directed, crisply. "Not

exact, of course, but that'll put us close enough to find 'em with our

detectors!"



Then for the calculated seventeen seconds the super-ship retraced her

path, at the same awful speed with which she had come so far. The blast

expired and there, plainly limned upon the observation plates, was the

Nevian speedster.



"As a computer you're good," Rodebush applauded. "So close that we can't

use the neutralizers to catch him. If we use a dyne of driving force

we'll overshoot him a million kilometers before I can snap the switches

out."



"And yet he's so far away and going so fast that if we keep our inertia

on it'll take all day at full drive to overtake him." Cleveland was

frankly puzzled. "What to do? Shunt in a potentiometer?"



"No, we don't need it." Rodebush turned to the transmitter. "Costigan!

We are going to take hold of you with a very light tractor. Don't cut

it!"



"A tractor--inertialess?" Cleveland wondered.



"Why not?" Rodebush launched the tractor, set at its absolute minimum of

power, and threw in his master switches.



While hundreds of thousands of miles separating the two vessels and the

tractor beam was exerting the least effort of which it was capable, yet

the super-ship leaped toward the smaller craft at a pace which covered

that distance in the twinkling of an eye. So rapidly were the objectives

enlarging upon the plates that the automatic focusing devices could

scarcely function rapidly enough to keep them in place. Cleveland

flinched involuntarily and seized his arm-rests in a spasmodic clutch as

he watched this, the first inertialess space-approach; and even

Rodebush, who knew better than anyone else what to expect, held his

breath and swallowed hard at the unbelievable rate at which the two

vessels were rushing together.



And if these two, who had rebuilt the space-flyer, could hardly control

themselves, what of the three in the speedster, who knew nothing

whatever of the super-ship's potentialities? Clio, staring into the

plate with Costigan, uttered a piercing shriek, as she sank her fingers

into his shoulders. Bradley swore a mighty deep-space oath and braced

himself against certain annihilation. Costigan stared for an instant,

unable to believe his eyes, then his hand darted to the contacts which

would cut the beam. Too late. Before his flying fingers could reach the

studs the Boise was upon them; had struck them in direct central

impact. Moving at the full measure of her unthinkable velocity though

the super-ship was at the moment of impact, yet the most delicate

recording instruments of the speedster could not detect the slightest

shock as the enormous globe struck the comparatively tiny torpedo and

clung to it; accommodating instantly and effortlessly her own terrific

pace to that of the smaller and infinitely slower craft. Clio sobbed in

relief and Costigan, one arm around her, sighed hugely.



"Hey, you space-fleas!" he cried. "Glad to see you and all that, but you

might as well kill a man outright as scare him to death! So that's the

super-ship, huh? SOME ship!"



"Hello, Conway!" "Clear ether, Conway!" The two scientists answered the

hail of their fellow.



"I didn't realize that an inertialess approach would be quite such a

terrifying spectacle, or I would have warned you," Rodebush went on.

"Yes, thanks to you, the super-ship works as she should, at last. But

you had better put on your suits and transfer. You might get your things

ready...."



"'Things' is good!" Costigan laughed, and Clio giggled sunnily.



"We've made so many transfers already that what you see us in is all we

have," Bradley explained. "We'll bring ourselves, and we'll hurry; that

Nevian is coming up fast."



"Is there anything on this ship you fellows want?" Costigan asked.



"There may be, but we haven't any locks big enough to let her inside and

we haven't time to study her now. You might leave her controls in

neutral, so that Lyman can calculate her position if we should want her

later on."



"All right." The three armor-clad figures stepped into the Boise's

open lock, the tractor beam was cut off, and the speedster flashed away

from the now stationary super-ship.



"Better let formalities go for a while," Captain Bradley interrupted the

general introduction taking place. "I was scared out of nine years'

growth when I saw you coming at us, and maybe I've still got the humps;

but that Nevian is coming up fast, and if you don't already know it I

can tell you that he's no light cruiser."



"That's so, too," Costigan concurred. "Have you fellows got enough stuff

so that you think you can take him? You've got the legs on him,

anyway--you can certainly run if you want to!"



"Run?" Cleveland laughed. "We have a bone of our own to pick with that

ship. We licked her to a standstill once, until we burned out a set of

generators, and since we got them fixed we've been chasing her all over

space. We were chasing her when we picked up your call. See there? She's

doing the running."



The Nevian was running, in truth. Her commander had seen and had

recognized the great vessel which had flashed out of nowhere to the

rescue of the three Terrestrials; and, having once been at grips with

that vengeful super-dreadnaught, he had little stomach for another

encounter. Therefore his side-thrust was now being exerted in the

opposite direction; he was frankly trying to put as much distance as

possible between himself and Triplanetary's formidable cruiser. In vain.

A light tractor was clamped on and the Boise flashed up to close range

before Rodebush threw on her inertia and Cleveland brought the two

vessels relatively to rest by increasing gradually his tractor's pull.

And this time the Nevian could not cut the tractor. Again that shearing

plane of force bit into it and tore at it, but it neither yielded nor

broke. The rebuilt generators of Number Four were designed to carry the

load, and they carried it. And again Triplanetary's every mighty weapon

was brought into play.



The "cans" were thrown, ultra-and infra-beams were driven, the furious

macro-beam gnawed hungrily at the Nevian's defenses; and one by one

those defenses went down. In desperation the enemy commander threw his

every generator behind a polycyclic screen; only to see Cleveland's even

more powerful drill bore relentlessly through it. Punctured that last

defense, the end came soon. A secondary SX7 beam was now in place on

mighty Ten's inner rings, and one fierce blast blew a hole completely

through the Nevian cruiser. Into that hole entered Adlington's terrific

bombs and their gruesome fellows, and where they entered, life departed.

All defenses vanished, and under the blasts of the Boise's projectors,

now unopposed, the metal of the Nevian vessel exploded instantly into a

widely spreading cloud of vapor. Sparkling vapor, with perhaps here and

there a droplet or two of material which had only been liquefied.



So passed the sister-ship, and Rodebush turned his plates upon the

vessel of Nerado. But that highly intelligent amphibian had seen all

that had occurred. He had long since given over the pursuit of the

speedster, and he did not rush in to do hopeless battle beside his

fellow Nevians against the Terrestrials. His analytical detectors had

written down each detail of every weapon and of every screen employed;

and even while prodigious streamers of red force were raving out from

his vessel, braking her terrific progress and swinging her around in an

immense circle back toward far Nevia, his scientists and mechanics were

doubling and redoubling the power of his already Titanic installations,

to match and if possible to overmatch those of Triplanetary's

super-dreadnaught.



"Do we kill him now or do we let him suffer a while longer?" Costigan

demanded.



"I don't think so, yet," replied Rodebush. "Would you, Lyman?"



"Not yet," replied Cleveland, grimly, reading the thought of the other

and agreeing with it. "Let him pilot us to Nevia; we might not be able

to find it without a guide. While we're at it we want to so pulverize

that crowd that if they never come near the Solarian system again

they'll think it's twenty minutes too soon!"



Thus it was that the Boise, under only a few dynes of propulsion,

pursued the Nevian ship. Apparently exerting every effort, she never

came quite within range of the fleeing raider; yet never was she so far

behind that the Nevian space-ship was not in clear register upon her

observation plates. Nor was Nerado alone in strengthening his vessel.

Costigan knew well and respected highly the Nevian scientist-captain,

and at his suggestion the entire time of the long and uneventful flight

was spent in re-enforcing the super-ship's armament to the iron-driven

limit of theoretical and mechanical possibility.



Thus, when Nevia and her hot, blue sun appeared upon his plates Rodebush

was ready for any emergency, and hurled his battleship upon the Nevian

with every weapon aflame. But so was Nerado ready; and, unlike her

sister-ship, his vessel was manned by scientists well versed in the

fundamental theory of the weapons with which they fought. Beams, rods,

and lances of energy flamed and flared; planes and pencils cut, slashed,

and stabbed; defensive screens glowed redly or flashed suddenly into

intensely brilliant, coruscating incandescence. Crimson opacity

struggled sullenly against violet curtain of annihilation. Material

projectiles and torpedoes were launched under full beam control; only to

be exploded harmlessly in mid-space, to be rayed into nothingness, or to

disappear innocuously against impenetrable polycyclic screens. Both

vessels were equipped completely with iron-driven mechanisms; both were

manned by scientists capable of wringing the last possible watt of power

from their sources. They were approximately equal in size, and each ship

now wielded the theoretical ultimate of power for her mass; therefore

neither could harm the other, furiously though each was trying. And more

and more nearly they were approaching the red atmosphere of the world of

the amphibians. Down into that crimson blanket the two warring

space-ships dropped, down toward a city which Costigan recognized as

that in which Nerado made his headquarters.



"Better hold off a bit," Costigan cautioned. "If I know that bird at

all, he's cooking up something," and even as he spoke there shot upward

from the city a multitude of flashing balls. The Nevians had mastered

the secret of the explosive of the fishes of the greater deeps and were

launching it in a veritable storm against the Terrestrial visitor.



"Those?" asked Rodebush, calmly. The detonating balls of destruction

were literally annihilating even the atmosphere beyond the polycyclic

screen, but that barrier was scarcely affected.



"No, that," pointing out a hemispherical dome which, redly translucent,

surrounded a group of buildings towering high above their neighbors.

"Neither those high towers nor those screens were there the last time I

was in this town. They're stalling for time down there, that's all those

fireballs are for. Good sign, too--maybe they aren't ready for us yet.

If not, you'd better take 'em while the taking's good; and if they are

ready for us, we'd better get out of here while we're all in one piece."



And in fact Nerado had been in touch with the scientists of his city;

had been instructing them in the construction of converters and

generators of such weight and power that they could crush even the

defenses of the super-ship. They were not, however, quite done; the

entirely unsuspected possibilities of speed inherent in absolute

inertialessness had not entered into Nerado's calculations.



"Better drop a few cans down on that dome, fellows, before they make

trouble for us," suggested Rodebush to his gunners.



"We can't," came Adlington's instant reply. "We've been trying it, but

that's a polycyclic screen. Can you drill it? If you can, I've got a

real bomb here--that special we built--that will do the trick if you can

protect it from their beams until it gets down into the water."



"I'll try it," Cleveland answered, at a nod from the physicist. "I

couldn't drill Nerado's polycyclics, but I couldn't use any momentum on

him. Couldn't ram him--he fell back with my thrust. But that screen down

there can't back off, so maybe I can work on it. Get your special ready,

and hang on, everybody!"



The Boise looped upward, and from an altitude of miles dove downward

through a storm of force-balls, rays, and shells; a dive checked

abruptly as the hollow tube of energy, which was Cleveland's drill,

snarled savagely down ahead of her and struck the shielding hemisphere

with a grinding, lightning-splitting shock. As it struck, backed by all

the enormous momentum of the plunging space-ship and driven by the full

power of her mightiest generators, it bored in, clawing and gouging

viciously through the tissue of that rigid and unyielding barrier of

pure energy. Then, mighty drill and plunging mass against iron-driven

wall, eye-tearing and furiously spectacular warfare was waged. Well it

was for Triplanetary, that day, that its super ship carried ample supply

of allotropic iron; well it was that her originally Gargantuan

converters and generators had been doubled and quadrupled in power on

the long Nevian way! For that oven-girdled fortress was powered to

withstand any conceivable assault; but the Boise's power and momentum

were now inconceivable, and every watt and every dyne was solidly behind

that hellishly flaming, that voraciously tearing, that irresistibly

ravening cylinder of energy incredible!



Through the Nevian shield that cylinder gnawed its frightful way, and

down its protecting length there drove Adlington's "Special" bomb.

"Special" it was indeed; so great of girth that it could barely pass

through the central orifice of Ten's mighty projector, so heavily

charged with sensitized atomic iron that its detonation upon any planet

would not have been considered for an instant if that planet's integrity

meant anything to its attackers. Down the shielding pipe of force the

"Special" screamed under full propulsion, and beneath the surface of

Nevia's ocean it plunged.



"Cut!" yelled Adlington, and as the scintillating drill expired, the

bomber snapped his detonating switch.



For a moment the effect of the explosion seemed unimportant. A dull, low

rumble was all that was to be heard of a concussion that jarred red

Nevia to her very center; and all that could be seen was a slow heaving

of the water. But that heaving did not cease. Slowly, so slowly it

seemed to the observers now high in the heavens, the waters rose up and

parted; revealing a vast chasm blown deep into the ocean's rocky bed.

Higher and higher the lazy, mountains of water reared; effortlessly to

pick up, to smash, to grind into fragments, and finally to toss aside

every building, every structure, every scrap of material substance

pertaining to the whole Nevian city.



Flattened out, driven backward for miles the tortured waters were urged,

leaving exposed bare ground and broken rock where once had been the

ocean's busy floor; while tremendous blasts of incandescent gas raved

upward, buffeting even the enormous masses of the two space-ships,

poised by their breathless crews so high above the site of the

explosion. Then the displaced millions of tons of water rushed back into

that newly rived pit, seeming to seek in that mad rush to make even more

complete the already total destruction of the city. The raging torrents

poured into that yawning cavern, filled it, and piled mountainously

above it; receding and piling up, again and again, causing tidal waves

which swept a full half of Nevia's mighty, watery globe.



The city forever silenced, Rodebush again directed his weapons upon

Nerado's vessel, but the Nevian was no longer fighting. For the first

time in that long and bitter engagement, not a Nevian beam was in

operation. His screens, however, were as capable as ever, and after a

few fruitless attempts to make an impression upon them, Rodebush cut off

his own offensive and turned to Costigan.



"What do you make of it, Conway? You know these people better than we

do; what are they up to?"



"I wish to talk to you," Nerado's voice came from the speaker, "and I

could not do so while the beams were operating. You are, I now perceive,

a much higher form of life than any of us had thought possible; a form

perhaps as high in evolution as our own. It is a pity that we did not

meet you when we first neared your planet, so that much life, both

Tellurian and Nevian, might have been spared. But what is past cannot be

recalled. As reasoning beings, however, you will see the futility of

continuing a contest in which neither of us is capable of injuring the

other. You may, of course, destroy more of our Nevian cities, in which

case I should be compelled to go and destroy similarly upon your earth;

but, to reasoning minds, such a course of procedure is sheerest folly."



Rodebush cut the communicator beam.



"Does he mean it?" he demanded of Costigan. "It sounds reasonable,

but...."



"But fishy," broke in Cleveland. "Altogether too reasonable for a...."



"Yes, he means it; every word of it," interrupted Costigan in turn.

"That's the way they are. Reasonable, passionless. Funny--they lack a

lot of things we have, but they've got a lot of things that I wish more

of us Tellurians had too. Give me the plate--I'll talk for

Triplanetary," and the beam was restored.



"Captain Nerado." he greeted the Nevian commander. "Having been with you

and among your people, I know that you mean what you say and that you

speak for your race. Similarly, I believe that I can speak for the

Triplanetary Council--the government of three of the planets of our

solar system--in saying that there need be no more conflict between our

peoples. I also was compelled by circumstances to do certain things

which I now wish could be undone; but as you have said, the past is

past. Our two races have much to gain from each other by friendly

exchanges of materials and of ideas, while we can expect nothing except

mutual extermination, if we elect to continue this warfare. I offer you

the friendship of Triplanetary. Will you release your screens and come

aboard to sign a treaty?"



"I will come; my screens are down." Rodebush likewise cut off his power,

although somewhat apprehensively, and a Nevian lifeboat entered the main

airlock of the Boise.



* * * * *



Then, at a table in the control room of Triplanetary's first super-ship,

there was written the first Inter-Systemic Treaty. Upon one side the

three Nevians; amphibious, cone-headed, loop-necked, scale-bodies,

four-legged things to us monstrosities: upon the other the three humans,

air-breathing, rounded-headed, shortnecked, smooth-bodied, two-legged

creatures equally monstrous to the fastidious Nevians. Yet each of these

representatives, of two races so different, felt respect for the other

race increase within him minute by minute as the conversation went on.



The Nevians had destroyed Pittsburgh, but Adlington's bomb had blown an

equally populous Nevian city out of existence. One Nevian vessel had

wiped out an entire unit of Triplanetary's fleet; but Costigan,

practically unaided, had depopulated one Nevian city and had seriously

damaged another. He had also beamed down many Nevian ships. Therefore

loss of life and material could be balanced. The Solarian system was

rich in iron, to which the Nevians were welcome; red Nevia possessed

abundant stores of substances which upon earth were extremely rare and

of vital importance. Therefore commerce was to be encouraged. The

Nevians had knowledges and skills unknown to earthly science, but were

entirely ignorant of many things, to us commonplace. Therefore

interchange of students and of books was highly desirable. And so on.



Thus was signed the Triplanetario-Nevian Treaty of Eternal Peace. Nerado

and his two companions were escorted ceremoniously to their vessel, and

the Boise took off in an inertialess dash toward earth, bearing the

good news that the Nevian menace was no more.



Clio, now a hardened space-flea, immune even to the horrible nausea of

inertialessness, wriggled lithely in the curve of Costigan's arm and

laughed up at him.



"You can talk all you want to, Conway, but I don't like them a bit. They

give me the purple jitters! I suppose that they are really estimable

folks; talented, cultured, and everything; but just the same I'll bet

that it will be a long, long time before anybody on earth will really,

truly like them!"