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"Not a thing, Commander," he replied. "We've done just about everything but take the force-field projectors apart, but so far we haven't found a thing wrong." "Any word on the race, Joe?" asked Strong. Howard looked surprised. "By the stars, I almost forgot. One of the ships is trying to make it to Ganymede without stopping at Deimos for refueling. And another blew up." Strong gasped. "Which one?"
The landing-field force-field locked on to it, and its descent began. The business of landing was all very familiar, from the blue rim which appeared at the limb of the planet from one diameter out, to the singular flowing-apart of the surface features as the ship sank still lower. There was the circular landing-grid, rearing skyward for nearly a mile.
Instantly, the man at the desk snatched up his own weapon and thumbed off the safety, but before he could lift and aim it, the intruder stumbled and passed outside the force-field which surrounded the chair and instruments.
Scientists were wringing their hands in utter helplessness before the incredible resistance of the dome. It had been determined that the dome was a force-field which caused particles charged with positive electricity to attempt to move in a right-hand direction about the source of the field, and particles charged with negative electricity to attempt to move in a left-hand direction.
The crowds were growing panicky as the deadly gas filled the city, unchecked. Strong, Walters, and Kit Barnard climbed into a waiting jet car, amid the hoots and catcalls from the waiting miners, and hurtled away to the giant building housing the electronic "brain" that controlled the force-field screens. Walters' face was grim.
"What we need are more powerful pumping stations for oxygen and additional generators for supplying power to the force field." "How do you figure that, sir?" asked Strong. "It's simply this," replied Walters. "The population here has nearly tripled in the past two years. The force-field screens were set up originally to accommodate only a minimum number of miners and their families.
I thought you were out with the other two of the Big Three, solving all the mysteries of the Universe?" "Had to stay in this last trip been doing some work on the ether, force-field theory, and other advanced stuff that I had to go to Mars and Venus to get. Just got back last week. As for solving mysteries, laugh while you can, old hyena.
Westfall, knowing well that far-reaching results would follow Brandon's characteristic attack, sat down at the controls of the communicator. He first called Mars, the home planet of Alcantro and Fedanzo, the foremost force-field experts of three planets; and was assured in no uncertain terms that those rulers of rays were ready and anxious to follow wherever Brandon and Westfall might lead.
From the force-field generators of the "Forlorn Hope" he selected the two most suitable for his purpose, tuned them to the exact frequency he required, and around them built a complex system of condensers and coils. Day after day passed. Their larder was full, the receptor was finished, and the beam transmitter was almost ready to attach to the turbo-alternator before the calm was broken.
The landing field's force-field locked on to it, and its descent began. The business of landing was all very familiar, from the blue rim which appeared at the limb of the planet from one diameter out, to the singular flowing-apart of the surface features as the ship sank still lower. There was the circular landing-grid, rearing skyward for nearly a mile.
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