Chapter XVI: A World at Stake

Uncertainly Virginia paused. "Ed," she said.

"Huh?" he asked, turning.

"You're going to--"

"I must."

She smiled and took a deep breath. Bronson looked at her quizzically. It was obvious that something had happened that had pleased her--or convinced her of something, but what it might be eluded him.

"Look, Ginger, we haven't much time. I've got to get going--and you know what to do."

She nodded, her eyes bright and intent upon him. "Ed," she said in a quiet voice, "I've been both selfish and opportunist, wanting security at any price. But you are willing to trust me with the future of Earth One. That, too, proves the worth of--worth of--of--"

"Forget it," he said softly. "If we win it will prove the right of Earth One to survive."

Then he turned to the machine again. "I've got to go!"

She came up behind him, turned him around and kissed him. "Go," she said. "And as you go, Ed, remember that I've made up my mind. I'm going with you--all the way!"

He smiled down at her. "I know," he said cryptically. Then he turned and snapped the button.

He landed in his own laboratory amid the four minions of Kingston. The suddenness of his appearance sent them flying in four directions. He whirled and reached for the assembled blocks of the space-resonant elements on the bench, to separate them again.

He was hit from behind by one of the thugs and staggered against the bench. Then the other three were upon him.

Only Bronson's sheer size and physical power saved him from instant annihilation. He fought them off, hitting them hard but taking a murderous amount of punishment. He kicked one away, traded blows with the second, turned to drive a hard fist into the face of the third--and nearly fell forward on his face as the blow passed through nothing!

In the big laboratory on Earth Two Virginia coldly and viciously clubbed Kingston's hired hand over the back of the head with a heavy end-wrench as the fellow was still staggering forward from the effort against Bronson.

Bronson blinked and recovered from his stagger. He lashed out at the nearest, just as Virginia grabbed another to give him the same treatment. One of the two remaining jerked a gun from his pocket and fired wildly. Bronson ducked under the gun hand and shouldered the thug cruelly in the pit of the stomach.

The gun dropped to the floor and there was a three-way dive for it. Bronson cracked his head against the nearer man's jaw, drove a fist into the other's face, and grabbed the wrist of the first one again. A gun appeared in the second man's hand.

Bronson jerked the wrist and the man staggered forward in front of Bronson just as the other thug fired. Ed felt the man's body twitch and he coldly lifted a foot, set it in the small of the stricken man's back and hurled him forward against the gun wielder. Behind him went Bronson but the gun wielder disappeared.

Virginia's quick end-wrench came down hard and then she had three of them lined up on the floor, taped helplessly with adhesive tape.

She scribbled a quick note and sent it through--and an instant later Bronson had the mass of crystals separated into their four parts.

He breathed deeply as he read the note. It did present a problem. He had one corpse on his hands and three other undesirables collected in the laboratory on Earth Two. Also, here he was safe on Earth One again with the crystals separated. He held the key to security!

But there was Earth Three, still whole and alive. How simple it would have been to ignore Three--Bronson admitted that Virginia might have had to suffer the fortunes of war if the fate of an entire world rested upon the decision.

But Bronson knew that, unless two of the three worlds were exterminated, all would die in a cosmic explosion when they began to reappear on the same time-plane.

Furthermore, he knew that Kingston was quite prepared to maintain a viewer on each of Ed Bronson's sections of crystal until they were reassembled again. For the very key that opened the portal was as deadly as the Alamogordo Flame....

A hard knock came at the door. Ed turned, puzzled, and went through his house to open it.

Captain Norris of the police strode into the room with a sour expression.

"What are you running here?" he demanded. "Where are the four birds that came in here a few minutes ago. Where have you been?"

Norris strode through the house until he came to the laboratory. He looked down at the body of Kingston's henchman and his eyebrows beetled. "This smacks of murder," he said flatly.

"It--"

"Self-defense," said Norris sourly. "Tell it to the judge." He looked around. "Where are the other three?"

"See here, Norris," snapped Bronson. "When I came to you about the invaders of earth you slapped me in the booby hatch. What would you say if I gave you proof?"

"It will have to be mighty good," snapped Norris.

From separate pockets Ed Bronson took the four bits of crystal. He set them side by side on the bench.

"Virginia," he said, knowing that she was listening. "Now!"

* * * * *

And his hands scooped the crystals together.

"Who are you--hey!" exploded Norris. They had come across the barrier and were standing in the laboratory building. In the viewer stood Virginia Carlson. She smiled through at them and showed them that she had once more separated the bits of crystal.

"What goes on?" Norris stormed.

"You are now on Earth Two," said Bronson. "And if you want to get back play it smart."

"Don't threaten me--who are these?"

"Three thugs from Earth Three."

"Oh fine," jeered Norris. "This sounds like a real game. Now look--"

"You look," snapped Bronson. He set the controls and snapped the button and the scene outside of the laboratory disappeared. In its place was a tall pillar of flame.

"That," said Bronson, "is the pillar of atomic flame at Alamogordo, caused on Earth Two by the original Manhattan Project experiment in Nineteen forty-five." He spun the dials once more, and the city of Washington was visible at a distance. Its pillar of flame roared high into the sky. "That's Earth Two, Washington," he snapped at Norris.

"But what can you do?" asked Norris, completely dumbfounded.

"I can fight back--now," said Bronson harshly. "And you can sit in a corner and figure out a means for a man to come to official quarters to tell of an extra-space invasion without being clapped in the nuthouse!"

He turned from Norris and adjusted the steering controls.

His hand came down on the button.

And Earth Three Washington erupted in a massive incandescent flame.

Kingston shouted in anger as the report came. He twirled his own dials, found a response and pressed the button.

He cried, "_Orders!_ Everyone possessing a Type One transmitter, help spread the atomic fire on Earth Two!"

Out across the face of Earth Three went the orders and the mobilized hundreds of thousands of people started their space resonators.

It was furious work. Bronson whirled the dials until the plane of view looked down upon Earth Two from several thousand miles above. From this point, Bronson knew that Kingston--from whatever hideout he was in--was directing a full-scale attack against Earth Two. The lights twinkled like a field of fireflies.

Bronson knew that his own attempts were pitiful against Kingston's massed attack.

Maybe Virginia was right. Maybe, in the final analysis Earth Three did hold all the tricks and would win. But whether or not he won or lost Bronson was going to fight to the bitter end. He directed his fire against Earth Three--and saw two disappear as one flared forth.

Bitterly, Bronson nodded. Kingston was well staffed. He could without difficulty set a number of his stations to the job of sending back upon Earth Two the few fires that Bronson could start. He was one man fighting a world well-armed--a gnat batting its head against a wall of polished chromium steel.

Bronson stopped punching the button with a gesture of sheer futility.

And from the vantage point above Earth Two, his viewer showed a spreading holocaust that threatened to cover the entire globe from pole to pole. It would be but a matter of time before a gout of flame and horror erased him and removed all resistance to Kingston's plans. Switching the scene to Earth Three, Bronson saw that the pitifully few dots of flame had been removed.

Which was right? A world playing with death in myriad or a world so conservative that it had not advanced to the point where it could turn the tables?

Bronson shook his head hopelessly.

The incandescent, flaming curtain almost obscured Earth Two now. The sky was alight and the rumblings and roarings shook the rocks. Torrents of wind howled back and forth and carried minute bits of the flame with them, feeding on the very air that carried them. They landed and they started their own fires in a million smaller craters.

Bronson shook his head. There was not much point in making even one last gesture. He hit the control panel with his fist and slumped in his chair. He took one last look at Earth Two and felt futility once more at the spreading of the atomic horror.

And then Bronson sat bolt upright. A last gesture! Before he had rushed in where angels fear to tread!

He looked at the equipment and shook his head. But equipment made well can withstand a terrific overload for a brief time. Even the most delicate of component parts require measurable time between application of a tremendous overload and ultimate failure.

His left hand spun the dials and his right hand tuned the transmitter.

He hoped for a break--and he knew also that this was IT in capital letters. If it worked he was the dead winner. If it failed he was doomed to remain on Earth Two to watch the arrival of atomic death.

But he had no other choice. Facing death either way he'd best go out making a try.

* * * * *

Kingston grunted sourly at the visi-plate and pointed out a faint arc at one edge. "What's that?" he asked. "Do we need a new tube at this crucial moment?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

Maddox turned the dials a bit and the arc came out of the frame clearly enough to display a disc. Faint, unreadable, but none the less a definite pattern.

Maddox looked at it carefully and then retreated the plane of view to many thousands of miles into deep space. Right out to the limit of his range he went.

And there were three discs, all of a size. One was, of course, the flaming Earth Two.

"We're approaching!" yelled Kingston. "Those other discs are Earth One and Three."

"But--"

"When their energy levels approach one another it will be unnecessary to employ a depth of penetration correction!" snapped Kingston. "For they'll all be on the same level."

"And when they do--we'll all go skyward."

The communicator clicked and Kingston read the tape. Then with a nasty chuckle, Kingston spun the dials and looked in upon Ed Bronson. "Darn few live pieces of element left on Two," sneered Kingston. "Made picking him out so much easier!"

"Yes," said Maddox dubiously, "but what in the devil is he doing?"

"He's--heavens!" screamed Kingston. His hand stabbed for the button like a striking snake.

And down upon Ed Bronson's stolen laboratory there descended a torrent of raw energy. In through the space resonator it came and it should have boiled out in the terrible holocaust that produced sunlike pillars of roaring atomic destruction.

Instead, the sheer energy came roaring in through the supercritical mass of space-resonant elements in Ed Bronson's stolen laboratory and entered the transmitter circuits, which were wide open to accept--nay, draw--all available energy from whatever source was available.

Into the circuits went the torrent of energy. It drove the focal volume out and out and out even beyond Ed Bronson's faintest hope. It expanded the volume and then energized the transmission circuits.

And Earth Two--atomic holocaust and all--disappeared from the time-plane it had occupied for so many years. There was a shrinking--but no one was there to record this collapse of the special plane--and at once, a joining, and though it seemed as though Earth One had come into full visibility, this impression was due to the time-fields joining with the original plane.

* * * * *

Virginia Carlson, alone and wondering on Earth One, alternately watched her wrist watch and smoked furiously.

She watched the second hand creep to its appointed meeting with the top of the dial, and she scooped the space-resonant elements into the palms of her hands. This must be done quickly, so very swiftly lest Kingston manage to get through with more than could be handled safely.

Zero!

Virginia clapped her hands together, creating an instantaneous supercritical mass.

Intolerable heat burned her hands. There was a flash of flame that blinded her and there was the rush and clatter of debris showering the laboratory, shattering windows, and pelting her mercilessly. A heavy something crashed against her skull and drove her to the floor.

Her eyes opened and the space-resonant crystals, crushed by the impact, sifted through her inert fingers and mingled with the powdery untouchably-hot debris that was inch-deep on the floor....

Leader Kingston's hand was stopped in mid-strike. He and his laboratory flamed into instant incandescence as matter was rent to mix with the raving splitting atoms of intolerable explosion.

For close were the temporal paths and the catastrophic energy of Earth Two found its outlet through the myriad of open paths furnished by the millions of commercially-used bits of space-resonant elements. From each of the crystals there poured a torrent of overwhelming flame that of itself formed more of the space-resonant elements.

The excess in entropy of Earth Two forced the transfer regardless of true tuning--as a nearby radio station will blast through to audibility regardless of the position of the dial--or, perhaps better, the excess in entropy level sought the deficient level of entropy as a north magnetic pole seeks the south magnetic pole. Water--or energy--finds its own stable level.

So from the machines that employed space resonant elements on Earth Three there poured the flaming substance and the excess of energy, to spread in one mighty explosion that rent space itself, but died when there was no more substance left to convert.

And with the release of the temporal strains, there came once more that imperceptible withdrawal of strife in the cosmic planes. Now all was at stable rest and there remained but one time-plane. That plane contained Earth One and all that belonged to it.

It contained a man hurled back through the space-resonant transmission equipment from Earth Two, from the one place where the atomic destruction had yet to reach, to the one and only place upon Earth One where space-resonant elements existed. And they alone had been tuned to Ed Bronson's stolen equipment, and held in supercritical mass for that bare instant of transfer by a woman's hands.

Burned, bruised and battered, Ed Bronson and Virginia Carlson would soon awaken from their unconsciousness to look into one another's eyes and wonder.