Masters of Space

  Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Stephen Blundell and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  PART ONE

  MASTERS OF SPACE

  By EDWARD E. SMITH & E. EVERETT EVANS

  Illustrated by BERRY

  The Masters had ruled all space with an unconquerable iron fist. But the Masters were gone. And this new, young race who came now to take their place--could they hope to defeat the ancient Enemy of All?

  I

  "But didn't you feel _anything_, Javo?" Strain was apparent in everyline of Tula's taut, bare body. "Nothing at all?"

  "Nothing whatever." The one called Javo relaxed from his rigidconcentration. "Nothing has changed. Nor will it."

  "That conclusion is indefensible!" Tula snapped. "With the promisedreturn of the Masters there must and will be changes. Didn't _any_ ofyou feel anything?"

  Her hot, demanding eyes swept the group; a group whose like, except forphysical perfection, could be found in any nudist colony.

  No one except Tula had felt a thing.

  "That fact is not too surprising," Javo said finally. "You have the mostsensitive receptors of us all. But are you sure?"

  "I am sure. It was the thought-form of a living Master."

  "Do you think that the Master perceived your web?"

  "It is certain. Those who built us are stronger than we."

  "That is true. As they promised, then, so long and long ago, our Mastersare returning home to us."

  * * * * *

  Jarvis Hilton of Terra, the youngest man yet to be assigned to directany such tremendous deep-space undertaking as Project Theta Orionis,sat in conference with his two seconds-in-command. Assistant DirectorSandra Cummings, analyst-synthesist and semantician, was tall, blondeand svelte. Planetographer William Karns--a black-haired, black-browed,black-eyed man of thirty--was third in rank of the scientific group.

  "I'm telling you, Jarve, you can't have it both ways," Karns declared."Captain Sawtelle is old-school Navy brass. He goes strictly by thebook. So you've got to draw a razor-sharp line; exactly where theAdvisory Board's directive puts it. And next time he sticks his uglypuss across that line, kick his face in. You've been Caspar MilquetoastTwo ever since we left Base."

  "That's the way it looks to you?" Hilton's right hand became a fist."The man has age, experience and ability. I've been trying to meet himon a ground of courtesy and decency."

  "Exactly. And he doesn't recognize the existence of either. And, sincethe Board rammed you down his throat instead of giving him old Jeffers,you needn't expect him to."

  "You may be right, Bill. What do you think, Dr. Cummings?"

  The girl said: "Bill's right. Also, your constant appeasement isn'tdoing the morale of the whole scientific group a bit of good."

  "Well, I haven't enjoyed it, either. So next time I'll pin his earsback. Anything else?"

  "Yes, Dr. Hilton, I have a squawk of my own. I know I was rammed downyour throat, but just when are you going to let me do some work?"

  "None of us has much of anything to do yet, and won't have until welight somewhere. You're off base a country mile."

  "I'm not off base. You _did_ want Eggleston, not me."

  "Sure I did. I've worked with him and know what he can do. But I'm notholding a grudge about it."

  "No? Why, then, are you on first-name terms with everyone in thescientific group except me? Supposedly your first assistant?"

  "That's easy!" Hilton snapped. "Because you've been carrying chips onboth shoulders ever since you came aboard ... or at least I thought youwere." Hilton grinned suddenly and held out his hand. "Sorry,Sandy--I'll start all over again."

  "I'm sorry too, Chief." They shook hands warmly. "I _was_ pretty stiff,I guess, but I'll be good."

  "You'll go to work right now, too. As semantician. Dig out thatdirective and tear it down. Draw that line Bill talked about."

  "Can do, boss." She swung to her feet and walked out of the room, herevery movement one of lithe and easy grace.

  Karns followed her with his eyes. "Funny. A trained-dancer Ph.D. And aMiss America type, like all the other women aboard this spacer. I wonderif she'll make out."

  "So do I. I still wish they'd given me Eggy. I've never seen anexecutive-type female Ph.D. yet that was worth the cyanide it would taketo poison her."

  "That's what Sawtelle thinks of you, too, you know."

  "I know; and the Board _does_ know its stuff. So I'm really hoping,Bill, that she surprises me as much as I intend to surprise the Navy."

  * * * * *

  Alarm bells clanged as the mighty _Perseus_ blinked out of overdrive.Every crewman sprang to his post.

  "Mister Snowden, why did we emerge without orders from me?" CaptainSawtelle bellowed, storming into the control room three jumps behindHilton.

  "The automatics took control, sir," he said, quietly.

  "Automatics! I _give_ the orders!"

  "In this case, Captain Sawtelle, you don't," Hilton said. Eyes lockedand held. To Sawtelle, this was a new and strange co-commander. "I wouldsuggest that we discuss this matter in private."

  "Very well, sir," Sawtelle said; and in the captain's cabin Hiltonopened up.

  "For your information, Captain Sawtelle, I set my inter-space couplingdetectors for any objective I choose. When any one of them reacts, ittrips the kickers and we emerge. During any emergency outside the SolarSystem I am in command--with the provision that I must relinquishcommand to you in case of armed attack on us."

  "Where do you think you found any such stuff as that in the directive?It isn't there and I know my rights."

  "It is, and you don't. Here is a semantic chart of the whole directive.As you will note, it overrides many Navy regulations. Disobedience of myorders constitutes mutiny and I can--and will--have you put in irons andsent back to Terra for court-martial. Now let's go back."

  In the control room, Hilton said, "The target has a mass ofapproximately five hundred metric tons. There is also a significantamount of radiation characteristic of uranexite. You will please executesearch, Captain Sawtelle."

  And Captain Sawtelle ordered the search.

  "What did you do to the big jerk, boss?" Sandra whispered.

  "What you and Bill suggested," Hilton whispered back. "Thanks to youranalysis of the directive--pure gobbledygook if there ever was any--Icould. Mighty good job, Sandy."

  * * * * *

  Ten or fifteen more minutes passed. Then:

  "Here's the source of radiation, sir," a searchman reported. "It's apoint source, though, not an object at this range."

  "And here's the artifact, sir," Pilot Snowden said. "We're coming up onit fast. But ... but what's a _skyscraper_ skeleton doing out here ininterstellar space?"

  As they closed up, everyone could see that the thing did indeed looklike the metallic skeleton of a great building. It was a huge cube,measuring well over a hundred yards along each edge. And it was empty.

  "_That's_ one for the book," Sawtelle said.

  "And how!" Hilton agreed. "I'll take a boat ... no, suits would bebetter. Karns, Yarborough, get Techs Leeds and Miller and suit up."

  "You'll need a boat escort," Sawtelle said. "Mr. Ashley, execute escortLanding Craft One, Two, and Three."

  The three landing craft approached that enigmatic lattice-work ofstructural steel and stopped. Five grotesquely armored figures waftedthemselves forward on pencils of force. Their leader, whose suit borethe number "14", reached a mammoth girder and worked his way along it upto a peculiar-looking bulge. The whole immense structure vanished,leaving men and boats in empty space.

  Sawtelle gasped. "Snowden! Are you holding 'em?"

  "No, s
ir. Faster than light; hyperspace, sir."

  "Mr. Ashby, did you have your interspace rigs set?"

  "No, sir. I didn't think of it, sir."

  "Doctor Cummings, why weren't yours out?"

  "I didn't think of such a thing, either--any more than you did," Sandrasaid.

  Ashby, the Communications Officer, had been working the radio. "No replyfrom anyone, sir," he reported.

  "Oh, no!" Sandra exclaimed. Then, "But look! They're firingpistols--especially the one wearing number fourteen--but _pistols_?"

  "Recoil pistols--sixty-threes--for emergency use in case of powerfailure," Ashby explained. "That's it ... but I can't see why _all_their power went out at once. But Fourteen--that's Hilton--is reallydoing a job with that sixty-three. He'll be here in a couple ofminutes."

  And he was. "Every power unit out there--suits and boats both--drained,"Hilton reported. "_Completely_ drained. Get some help out there fast!"

  * * * * *

  In an enormous structure deep below the surface of a far-distant world agroup of technicians clustered together in front of one section of atwo-miles long control board. They were staring at a light that had justappeared where no light should have been.

  "Someone's brain-pan will be burned out for this," one of the groupradiated harshly. "That unit was inactivated long ago and it has notbeen reactivated."

  "Someone committed an error, Your Loftiness?"

  "Silence, fool! Stretts do not commit errors!"

  * * * * *

  As soon as it was clear that no one had been injured, Sawtelle demanded,"How about it, Hilton?"

  "Structurally, it was high-alloy steel. There were many bulges, possiblycontaining mechanisms. There were drive-units of a non-Terran type.There were many projectors, which--at a rough guess--were a hundredtimes as powerful as any I have ever seen before. There were noindications that the thing had ever been enclosed, in whole or in part.It certainly never had living quarters for warm-blooded,oxygen-breathing eaters of organic food."

  Sawtelle snorted. "You mean it never had a crew?"

  "Not necessarily...."

  "Bah! What other kind of intelligent life is there?"

  "I don't know. But before we speculate too much, let's look at thetri-di. The camera may have caught something I missed."

  It hadn't. The three-dimensional pictures added nothing.

  "It probably was operated either by programmed automatics or by remotecontrol," Hilton decided, finally. "But how did they drain all ourpower? And just as bad, what and how is that other point source of powerwe're heading for now?"

  "What's wrong with it?" Sawtelle asked.

  "Its strength. No matter what distance or reactant I assume, nothing weknow will fit. Neither fission nor fusion will do it. It has to bepractically total conversion!"