Taylor H. Greenfield - The Sword and the Atopen.pdf - Taylor H. Greenfield - widez2

The Sword and the Atopen

Greenfield, Taylor H.

Published: 1956

Type(s): Short Fiction, Science Fiction

Source: http://www.gutenberg.org

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The conversion of light into electricity by spectrum is an interesting possibility.

The idea of using foreign proteins on the human system to repel enemies, is also

interesting. Do you get it? We didn't either until we read the story. Read the

yarn and you'll get it too.

Although Divine intervention in human affairs passed into the realm

of the mythical toward the end of the twentieth or at the dawn of the

twenty-first century, one is almost inclined to give thanks to the Super-

natural

for

the

marvelous

efficacy

Dr.

Rutledge's

discovery

and

stratagem which so recently freed us from the Oriental menace.

A year ago only the Mississippi and the most severe winter in many

generations was staying the complete invasion of the United States. In an

unbelievably secret manner our enemies had for five decades been de-

veloping a scientific offensive against which our laboratories could not in

a short interval protect us. The vast and fundamental discoveries made

during the past hundred years by the Orientals (and now the heritage of

the whole world) can only be compared to the Industrial Revolution of

the nineteenth century. Without warning, through the discovery of the

cause of gravitation, the Mongols practically lifted their Nangsi metal

transports (which were built of a material combining the lightness of alu-

minum with the strength and hardness of steel) out of the sea; and in five

days skimmed across the surface of the Pacific. The whole West lay at

their mercy, though we know with what gallantry their forces were held

in check from summer until winter, when the enemy had reached the

Mississippi.

Of course, one of the surprises which the Orientals had not counted on

was the providential inspiration of Dr. Mernick of the Hopkins, who de-

vised the now famous Mernickian transformer by which light from the

sun, received through a series of grates, is stepped from the wavelengths

of light into those of electricity. This gave us a sudden limitless source of

power on which the enemy had not counted. It virtually lifted our forces

off the ground and made them almost the equal of an enemy who had

succeeded in neutralizing the gravitational drag.

The final and most disastrous card our subtle enemies played was

dealt on the prairies in Nebraska. They themselves were afraid of their

weapon and wanted plenty of space to try it in. I was personally present

at its debut, being at the time in General Sanford's stationary observing

helicopter which, through the agency of the power supplied by a Mer-

nickian transformer, hung motionless as a bee fifteen thousand feet in

the air. Only the treble hum of the air turbine could be heard faintly

through the transparent walls of the observatory constructed of the an-

nealed clersite, which has taken the place of the unsatisfactory glass used

by our forefathers. The toughness and tensile strength of this element,

comparable to the best chrome steels, combined with its crystal clarity,

made an ideal warfare observation unit. It was practically invisible and

likewise quite bullet proof. The great strength of the material in our ma-

chine, and the rapidity with which we could rise and fall, indeed made

us difficult prey. In addition to this we were hanging behind the great

electric field that the Radio Defensive Corps had spread like a screen be-

fore our forces, greatly to the embarrassment of the enemy in the use of

his anti-gravitational machines.

As we stood at our posts, we saw the great degravitated bombs

hurtled against our lines suddenly come into contact with the fan-like

electric field, somersault a few times and fall. At the edge of the electric

screen the ground was excavated to an enormous depth by the bursting

of these intercepted degravitated bombs, most of which had been projec-

ted from stationary batteries three or four hundred miles behind the en-

emy lines. The local batteries bombarding with the old fashioned Sangsi

steel shell were still effective. On the whole, however, from our own ob-

servation of the local front and from the television reports we were con-

stantly receiving, we judged that the American and Allied Caucasian

forces were more than holding their own.

General Sanford, the Chief of the Signal Corps, who stood by my side,

grasped my arm, and pointed to the west. Everyone crowded to our side

in excitement. Before we could gasp our amazement, the incandescent

spot which our Chief had mutely indicated on the distant horizon,

zoomed in a blazing arc across our zenith and plunged into the terrain of

the English forces which were occupying the little town of Ogallala

about six miles to our south. We held our breath. What next?

Only a faint throbbing seemed to pulse in the air above the spot where

the missile sank. I was about to pronounce the diagnosis of "a dud,"

when someone cried, "My God, General, they've turned hell loose this

time!" The whole atmosphere for a quarter of a mile radius about the

fatal bomb quivered as over a heated griddle. Even as we remarked this,

the area began to glow cherry red. A deafening thunder assaulted our

ears when to our horror the earth on which had stood the now burning

town of Ogallala, rose a gigantic incandescent ball and shot like a meteor

into the heavens. Our car was a feather tossed in the ensuing hurricane,

but even while we bobbed back and forth there was an ear-splitting

explosion as the land that was once an American village burst into a

blinding blue flare of hydrogen flame twenty-five miles above us.

The swaying of the car gradually subsided in the tortured atmosphere,

and a gentle rain began to fall. Ogallala had been chemically "stepped

down" into the most primitive element, combined with the oxygen above

and was condensing back to earth again as a few globules of H 2 O. That

day was a sort of crisis; the enemy had discovered and turned upon us

the power of atomic degeneration! And I, as assistant chief chemist of the

American Army, felt my heart become heavy within me as I soared back

to the Central Laboratory.

Even as I watched the advent of the electronic detonator two days pre-

viously the inspiration had come to me. What had happened to the

doomed Nebraskan town had been so obvious. Through some unex-

plained agency discovered by the Orientals, the electronic restraint of the

normally stable elements had been removed. In a brief time Ogallala had

degenerated through all the steps of the periodic table until it became

hydrogen, at which point, owing to the terrific air current and incandes-

cent heat, it had recombined with the oxygen of the air as simple mo-

lecules of water.

I thought I had a clue as to how it had been accomplished. The Central

Chemical Laboratory was the focus of feverish excitement. The air was

tense with the expectancy of tremendous things. Every scientist there felt

that we were on the verge of discovering the principle of the Mongols'

new weapon. "Give us time!" "Time" was the plea we sent daily to the

Defense Headquarters. "Only six weeks more, only a month," we begged,

"and then we'll make a boomerang out of the enemy's invention." Ander-

son, Mahaffey, Dr. Spritz—all the great physicists and chemists of the

present age—labored at my side endeavoring to trick Nature into giving

us that saving secret.

The television 'phone called my name. I immediately hurried to the

booth and saw General Loomis, the Commander-in-Chief of the Americ-

an and Caucasian Armies, standing in his helicopter headquarters. He

seemed haggard and worn. "How much longer, Johnson?" he asked. "The

enemy has pretty well eaten out the country and with the advent of

winter and lack of food, are bending all their efforts to crush us. Besides,

we cannot tell just how long it will be before they begin turning out their

new bomb in other than experimental quantities. Two weeks, I should

estimate, is about all the longer I can hold them."

Taylor H. Greenfield - The Sword and the Atopen.pdf

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