>
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 1952 by John Russell Fearn
Copyright © 2010 by Philip Harbottle
Published by Wildside Press LLC
www.wildsidebooks.com
DEDICATION
For David Ward
CHAPTER ONE
OTHER EYES WATCHING
The crew of the spaceship that had crossed an interstellar gulf was in conference. Recently revived from their long sleep in suspended animation, they were in orbit a million miles from the Earth. Their craft was hidden from any observers on Earth by reason of a projected image that gave it the appearance of a lifeless chunk of rock, just one of many near-Earth objects drifting in space.
Altogether there was a score of them, big-domed, broad-chested beings, accustomed to an attenuated atmosphere and light gravitation. They had voyaged to Earth from their slowly dying home planet, some 100 light-years distant, guided unerringly by a signal sent from a computer-controlled probe craft that had discovered the Earth more than two hundred and fifty years earlier.
“My friends,” their Leader said quietly, surveying his alien comrades, “we face an unexpected problem. The race inhabiting this planet are much more numerous and scientifically advanced than was originally reported to us by our robot probe. We did not foresee how they could have developed so quickly.”
“Was the probe in error?” one of the crew asked. “Has it malfunctioned?”
“No. On the contrary, it has performed perfectly. Its computer brain has been making observations and recordings ever since it arrived. All of its valuable data has now been transferred to our own ship’s central computer brain. As Leader, I was revived ahead of the rest of you, and I have been analyzing the recorded data. I now know everything about this planet and its peoples, including its main languages—thanks to computer analysis of their radio and television broadcasts. In their main language, English, they call themselves ‘humans’ and their planet is known as ‘Earth’ They measure time in units of what they call ‘years’, this being the period of their revolution around their sun. Our probe arrived here some 250 of their years ago.”
A ripple of unease passed amongst the assembled crew. “They have radio and television? Just how advanced are they?” one of them asked. “When we set out on this mission, they had neither! The data we had said that they were an extremely backward race, without even any mechanized transport! How has this mistake been made?”
“No mistake has been made.” The Leader spoke irritably. “The situation has arisen purely because of the limiting factor of the speed of light. On its arrival here, the probe sent a radio signal back to our home world, stating that Earth was a fair world, with a breathable atmosphere and abundant natural resources—ideal for our race to migrate to. Its backward inhabitants were relatively few in number, of no account scientifically, and could easily be eliminated or enslaved. The radio signal took some 100 Earth years to reach our planet. Immediately it was received, our ship was readied as the vanguard for our invasion, our mission being to prepare the way for our race to migrate here. Naturally, since we cannot travel faster than light, we were obliged to go into suspended animation. Allowing for deceleration, it has taken us another 150 Earth years to arrive, But in that interval—whilst we slept in suspended animation—this Earth race has increased its population astronomically by advances in medical science, and advanced at a phenomenal rate, from animal transport to space travel and an atomic age technology!”
“Space travel!” another ripple of unease amongst the crew. “Are we in danger of detection by Earth vessels?”
“No.” The Leader waved a deprecating tentaculate hand. “They are still at an early stage, and apart from unmanned probes, have not ventured much beyond their dead satellite. Even if their instruments detect our vessel, they will take it to be just space debris—a chunk of rock. They appear to be obsessed with putting observation satellites into close orbit for spying upon themselves—completely unaware that we are spying upon them!”
There was a relaxation of tension amongst the crew.
“Another of their traits is to make visual reconstructions of their own past history, with what they call ‘films’. They also make other rather ridiculous films that are entirely fictional, which apparently they find entertaining. These films are constantly being broadcast, and many of them have been recorded by our probe. Our central computer was able to select and replay to me those that had genuine historical content. It was these that I found to be immensely useful.” The Leader paused and looked at his fellows, saw that he had their complete attention.
“Once,” he resumed, “not too long ago, the Earth people came close to completely destroying themselves in a world-wide conflict. Just when it seemed our ambition would be realised, when they developed the atomic bomb, they ceased fighting! At that very supreme moment when it seemed logical they would annihilate each other, they became peaceful, and, for the time being, our cause was lost. There continue to be numerous localised conflicts, but they result in relatively few deaths—at least, for our purposes.”
There was a murmuring of frustration amongst the assembled crew. The Leader clenched a tentaculate hand on a broad table in front of him.
“Our need, my friends, grows more desperate with the passing years. Our home planet is no longer of service. Its surface has become too arid and its air too thin for us to move far from our underground cities and these cities demand a colossal amount of power for their upkeep, far more than we can really afford. Already our race is hampered in expansion because we have deliberately put a limit on the number of matings and progeny we can allow. Such depletion cannot be stopped unless we have again a world whereon we can live in freedom, a world whose surface is bountiful, where the atmosphere is breathable. For many cycles we have been sending exploratory probes to all sectors of space. At the time we left, only one world had been discovered that fitted the description, and that is the one that is called ‘Earth’ by those who dwell on it. And we were selected to form the vanguard.”
This time the assembled crew merely nodded courteously and then glanced at one another. They did not dare reveal that they were bored, for they certainly were. All this recounting of known facts was tedious. Their chief anxiety was to know what the Leader proposed to do next.
“Our numbers are not sufficient to permit of us invading Earth and conquering it,” the Ruler resumed after a moment. “Our science is superior, certainly, but if we flung ourselves into an all-out war against Earth and tried to invade it we would be bound to tear great gaps in our ranks. The Earth people are not primitive by any means, and they have weapons that could certainly inflict grievous losses upon us. In our depleted condition we cannot afford that risk. Our best strategy lies in making these Earthlings destroy themselves and so leave us an empty planet, or if not that, then one so denuded that our victory over them would prove superlatively easy. To that end, I have been perfecting a plan whilst I waited for the automatic machines to revive you at their appointed time.” He paused, then added triumphantly: “I have chosen a weapon which, produced on Earth, should definitely lead certain factions to precipitate that cataclysm that will pave the way for a successful invasion.”
The assembled crew began to take more interest. Apparently they were arriving at the point they wanted—a method of causing the Earth race to destroy itself.
“I am referring to the Gravity-Bomb. Can you imagine the reaction of certain factions on Earth to a weapon like that? I am convinced that such a device, allied to the knowledge of atomic
