Star Smashers of the Galaxy Rangers Read online

  "I have a graduate degree in open-heart surgery," Chuck said. "Will that help?"

  "Good. You can pass me the instruments. What about you, Jerry?"

  "My only graduate medical degree is in proctology, so maybe I better just watch."

  The newly built revasculator pumped, throbbed and gurgled, the hysterisis-anniliilator hissed, the corpuscular reconstitutor clicked passionately – and all these machines under the deft control of John, who indeed was a master surgeon. Beneath his tender ministrations Sally's tender body, still clad in the remnants of her gay summer frock, relaxed and lost the glassy frozen look. Within minutes she had softened a good deal, though, of course, her heart was not beating, nor was she breathing.

  "The intravascular oxygenator is supplying oxygen directly to her brain cells," John said calmly, while his hands flashed busily about their tasks. "As you know if the blood supply to the brain is cut off for more than two minutes, the brain begins to deteriorate, and even if the patient lives, it will be only as a mindless husk. We can only hope that Sally froze quickly back there on Titan, or she will be a beautiful but mindless husk. Now, stand back if you please, for I shall apply two hundred and thirty volts of direct current with these paddles directly to her heart which will surprise it into beating again, and she will, I hope, be restored to young and vital life."

  The paddles were applied, the switch thrown, Sally's body contracted with the shock, and she leaped a yard into the air. When she came down, her eyes were wide open, and she put her knuckles to her mouth and screamed loudly over and over again.

  "Husk. . . ." Both the young men who loved her sighed.

  "Perhaps not," said John, injecting a note of hope into what appeared to be an inevitable and tragic occasion.

  "Perhaps she was frozen so fast her memory was frozen as well, and she thinks she is still a prisoner of the loathsome Titanians."

  "It's us, Sally," Jerry said hopefully. "You're safe, do you hear that, safe!"

  She looked around her, dazedly, her eyes still empty of anything resembling intelligence.

  7

  A GREAT VICTORY BUT TRAGEDY STRIKES

  "Well, thanks for trying, John," Jerry said wearily.

  "Yeah," Chuck added in the same gloom-ridden tone of voice. "You did your best. But it was just too late. She is a hapless vegetable forever."

  "Vegetable, my foot," Sally said angrily. "What on earth are you talking about? And what happened to those loathsome Titanians that were here just a moment ago?"

  "It worked!" they shouted in unison, and there was a great deal of hugging, backslapping and furtive knuckling of tears from eye corners. Once the hysterical moment was over they explained to Sally, in detail, what had happened. They had but one question, and Jerry phrased it for all of them.

  "We have only one question. Why did you open the plane door and let the Titanians in?"

  "They knocked three times, and you told me to open the door at three knocks. That's a foolish question," she sniffed, and they dared not disagree with her. "In any case it's nice that it all ended the way it did and all. And I'm really not sorry I missed most of. it. Frankly I'm rather glad I was frozen by the time the Titanian king was caressing my limbs with his tentacles because I should not have liked that at all. So – when do we go back to Earth?"

  "As soon as we have destroyed all of the disgusting carnivorous Garnishee," Jerry said stalwartly. "We can do at least that for these fine people here. And I must align the cheddite projector, and to do that I must find out where we are."

  "This is the planet Domite which circles the star Proxima Centauri," Steigen-Sterben said, entering the operating room. "After dark you will be able to see the nearby double star of Alpha Centauri, the smaller companion of which is almost identical with the primary of your own solar system."

  "He speaks pretty good English for a bald guy with four arms," Sally said, impressed.

  "Steigen-Sterben at your service, dear Miss Sally. It is a pleasure to have you among us in revived form. Now, Mr. Jerry, if I could be so bold as to ask you about the weapon you had proposed constructing that would destroy once and for all our disgusting enemies. Is it ready?"

  "It will be as soon as we have built a vacuum chamber. Sooner or later we will have to use the cheddite projector in an atmosphere, so it might as well be sooner. If we build it into a portable vacuum chamber, I will show you how this miracle of transportation can also be used as a humane weapon to end your millennia-old war once and for all."

  "All our facilities, needless to say, are completely at your disposal."

  While Sally went to make herself some new clothes to replace the torn summer frock she had been frozen in, the three companions brought the cheddite projector from the Pleasantville Eagle and labored to build it into a portable vacuum chamber. Or rather two of them did. Chuck stopped once to think and stood, deep in thought, for almost twenty minutes. He was in the way, so they stood him in the corner while they worked. Twenty minutes later, to the second, his eyes refocused, and he turned to them with grave tones.

  "I hate to say it, but I think there is something slightly fishy about our four-armed friend Steigen-Sterben."

  "Other than some strange eating habits," Jerry said, "I don't think there is anything wrong with old S-S."

  "Then listen. If we are on a planet of the star Proxima Centauri – how far are we from Earth?"

  "Four point three light-years," Jerry snapped back instantly. "Give or take a few miles."

  "Check. Now when was the Pleasantville General Hospital and Rest Home built?"

  "Two years ago . . . but. . . of course! We've been tricked!"

  "I don't dig you, man," John said sourly.

  "It's obvious. Steigen-Sterben said he heard about the hospital from a radio broadcast. Yet since radio waves disperse at the speed of light, the broadcast about the hospital will not arrive here for over two years more!"

  "I admit to a slight deception, ha-ha, but it was only done in the name of friendship," Steigen-Sterben said, slipping into the room and smiling his toothless grin at them. The grin faded when the three men closed in on him, fists clenched.

  "You lied to us," Jerry snapped out. "You are a mind reader, aren't you?"

  "Just a little," he admitted, raising his four hands palms outward, while shrinking back at the same time. "Please let me explain. I meant no harm. We have simple mental powers of perception, being able to read surface thoughts, but not deeply. I saw that a creature on the moon you just left knew your language from radio broadcasts, so foolishly, I said that, feeling you would not like to have your minds read. Yes, I read in your minds now that you do not like having your minds read. So I will stop. I lied only for the greater cause of freedom."

  "We can't beat up on him for that, I guess," Jerry said, lowering his fist, as did the others. "So I guess we'll have to go along with him." He turned and shook his finger at Steigen-Sterben. "But no mind reading without permission, do you hear? We like a bit of privacy."

  Steigen-Sterben looked at him in puzzlement. "Why do you shake your finger at me?" he asked. "I do not know what you say since I am not reading your mind."

  "You're an honest old coot," Jerry said shaking his hand, and Chuck and John shook his hand too at the same time, which they could do and even have one left over. Jerry tapped his head and pointed at the puzzled Ormoloo, who finally understood and read his mind.

  "Very happy that peace is restored," he smiled toothlessly. "From now on I shall only read your minds when you tap on the side of your head like that. In such manner will communication be established and privacy maintained. Now tell me – is this device you are constructing completed yet?"

  "Just about to try it out." Chuck waved. "The tank is evacuated and the cheddite projector aligned. Now I set the controls on the outside of the tank." He did so, squinting through the open window at the mountain range nearby. "They're all ready. A push of the button will activate it and I leave that up to you, S-S, you four-armed, bald, toothless, f
riendly old coot."

  "I will be grateful for eternity. But what will happen?"

  "Just look at the mountains and press."

  He did, and blinked quickly. "Am I having eye trouble or did I just see a forty-five-thousand-foot snowcapped mountain peak vanish completely?"

  "You're not just snapping your mouth bones!" Jerry chortled. "The explanation is extremely simple. That mountain peak was enveloped by the kappa radiation and slipped into the lambda dimension and dropped out of the lambda dimension right over the middle of that big ocean back there. I'll bet the fish were surprised!"

  "I'll bet the Garnishee will be surprised when they drop into that ocean." He grinned, and they all laughed together, but suddenly Steigen-Sterben stopped laughing and rushed toward the door.

  "What's up?" Chuck called after him.

  "A surprise attack by the Garnishee! They approach in force." And then he was gone.

  "Well, there's something we can do about this, guys," Jerry said. "Let's load the cheddite projector onto this wagon and take it up to the walls."

  They jumped to it, and just in time too. When they reached the courtyard of the fort, Sally had just run through the gate, which was slammed behind her almost in the teeth of the attacking Garnishee.

  "I saw them just in time," she said breathlessly. "I ran every foot of the way back from the plane. What do you think of my outfit?"

  She was tastefully dressed in neat shorts and blouse of colorful fabric cut from the Pleasantville football uniforms. But she had to stamp her foot in annoyance – how like men! – as they did not even answer her but ran quickly away staggering under the weight of a big tank thing. Men! Always thinking of themselves and not even answering a civil question!

  While the Earthmen set up their projector, the Ormoloo were fighting for their very lives, for this was an attack in force with hundreds of armored vehicles streaking down from the hills. On the parapet nearby a linear magnetic projector was hard at work. The slaving Ormoloo loaded tar ball after tar ball into the breech of the weapon, inserting a fuse just before firing. Iron filings were mixed with the tar, and these particles of iron were clutched inexorably by the powerful magnetic field and flashed through the rings of the barrel, faster and faster, before being hurled out of the muzzle. When these tar balls struck they stuck, then ignited and burned with a fierce flame visible even in the full daylight. Nor was this the only weapon the Ormoloo used. They had a catapult with two large arms in the shape of a Y to which were fastened a rubberlike material that was stretched back by the laboring soldiers. When it was stretched to the utmost, a bomb with sputtering fuse was loaded into the leather seat, and the whole was released with devastating effect. In addition, they had cannon and rifles, not unlike their earthly counterparts, which they used with deadly effect upon the enemy. Who still charged closer, relying on their numbers to crush and capture the fort.

  "Ready," Jerry shouted.

  "Hurry," a nearby gunner called out. "For they are at our very gates and we are lost if their reserves arrive."

  "Well, that for the reserves," Jerry muttered and pressed the activating switch.

  Instantly, with a motion too fast for the eye to see, an entire attacking battalion of armored vehicles winked out of existence. Their tracks were still on the ground – ending abruptly – and the cloud of dust raised by their passage still hung in the air. But they were gone! A cheer broke out from the defenders.

  "If you listen closely, you can hear the splashes," Jerry shouted, and they laughed in unison.

  The rest of the attackers went the way of the first and the battle was won. While victory still enthused them, they loaded the cheddite projector into the Pleasantville Eagle, repaired the hole in the wing, and filled the tanks with fuel from the Ormoloo vehicles which proved to have very much the chemical composition of aviation jet fuel. Soon they were climbing into the sky, following the pointing finger of Steigen-Sterben, who went along as their guide.

  "That direction," he said. "It will not be necessary for you to go below the clouds, in which case your magnificent air vessel would risk being shot down. I am in touch by mental telepathy with our observers in the front lines, and they inform me of our exact position. I will tell you when you are over the enemy lines – get ready – an immense fort below us that has stopped our advance for two thousand years – now!" The button was pressed. "Ahh, no more fort. If you will be ready, forty thousand troops massed for the attack. . . now!"

  And so it went. Before the day was out Jerry's thumb was tired from pressing the button on the cheddite projector and Chuck had to relieve him at the controls. By late afternoon they were low on fuel and had to turn back but, meanwhile, they had destroyed most of the opposing army of the enemy, and the war, after ten thousand years, was won for the Ormoloo. There was indeed jubilation and a banquet waiting for them when they landed.

  "I don't think I could take another of those banquets," John whispered to the others when Steigen-Sterben was out of earshot inspecting the toilet facilities of the 747.

  "Me too," Jerry agreed.

  "And I'll put in my vote," Chuck added. "Particularly, when you get down to it, since we haven't eaten for something like four days now, nor have we had much sleep."

  "That's true," Jerry told him. "But we've been busy. When we get back, we'll ask Sally, who is waiting in our quarters in the fort, to rustle up something for us."

  "What?" John muttered hungrily. "There's no food in the plane and only grass for the Ormoloo."

  "Don't worry," Jerry said cheerily. "She'll think of something. She's a darn clever cook."

  They swooped in for a landing just before sunset and trooped into the fort.

  "See you at the celebration in a while, Steigen-Sterben," Jerry said. "We're going to see what Sally can rustle up for us."

  "Of course, but do not be late, for this is the greatest moment in ten thousand years of history of our poor planet. Your names will ring down through the ages."

  "Nix on that," Jerry told him, and the others nodded agreement. "We can't take that kind of thing. We're just some guys doing our job and helping our friends and we don't go for that sort of mush, no, sir!"

  They tramped through the halls and through the open door and called out the name of the girl whom at least two of them loved.

  "Sally!"

  Her piercing scream was the only answer. They fought each other to be first through the door and entered just in time to see her shrieking body being carried in the tentacles of a stinking Garnishee down through a secret trapdoor let into the floor. They dived forward as one, only to have the trapdoor slam shut in their faces. Cursing and struggling, they tore at the unyielding metal, and SteigenSterben ran breathlessly into the room.

  "I heard your mental cries of anger and fear," he said,

  "so I came at once."

  "Sally," Chuck panted, "that thing took her down there. Help us get this trapdoor open, so we can follow and save her."

  Steigen-Sterben's forehead wrinkled with intense thought, and then he sighed a deep and tremulous sigh. With a despairing gesture he reached out and laid a comforting hand on the shoulder of all three of them and made a helpless gesture with his remaining hand.

  "Struggle no more, I beg of you," he entreated.

  "Why?" struggling, "we must save her."

  "You cannot," Steigen-Sterben intoned in the most funereal of tones. "For it is too late. I attempted to reach her mind with mine to enable you to locate her when pfiff – with utmost suddenness her thoughts were no more."

  "You mean. . . ."

  "Sadly, I do. If her thoughts have been stopped this poor girl, so far from home, is dead."

  8

  THE GHASTLY SECRET REVEALED

  The shocked silence continued for an inordinately long time because, as you can very well imagine, no one had much to say after receiving that news. Steigen-Sterben, knowing how they felt, tiptoed out of the door and left them to their sadness.

  "She was a good old girl,
" Chuck finally choked out.

  "A-number-one," Jerry choked in answer.

  "Let's go fuel up the plane and rebuild that starboard engine," Jerry suggested.

  "Good idea," Chuck agreed, and they left in silence with their misery.

  John let them go, knowing they wanted to be alone together, or maybe just alone, or maybe together, with their loss. He felt the loss no less keenly himself, although he had known that wonderful girl only from a distance up until a few days ago. He scuffled about the room dazedly, and when he passed the sealed trapdoor, he gave it a vicious kick and it instantly flew open. At this unexpected event he drew back, his keen senses alert again, wondering instantly what it could mean. Whatever it meant he had to investigate, even if the dark opening were filled with repellent Garnishee – in fact, he would welcome that! Take as many as possible to the grave with him. He remembered that there was an armory in the next room, and he hurried there and seized a heavy sword, then rushed back to the gaping entrance to the netherworld revealed by the open trapdoor. Filled by conflicting emotions, he did not think or reason but hurled himself headlong into the darkness. Something struck his skull heavily, and he was unconscious on the instant.

  When he came to an immeasurable period of time later, all was in darkness still, and bis head hurt. Not only that but there was an awful stench in the air, and he knew instantly that it was the Garnishee, he had heard they smelled bad and, wow!, was that rumor ever right. They were close around him, unseen and slithering close, and the instant a wet tentacle slithered down his face, he lashed out with a quick fist and connected solidly, and a really satisfying scream – they screamed like girls – was his reward.

  Then there was a sudden flare of light, and he saw that he had been right and he was surrounded by the repulsive Garnishee. Well, half right at least, because the one he had hit was really Sally Goodfellow, who had been stroking his head, who, in return, got a right cross to the eye, wbich was now producing a really interesting mouse.