Wandl the Invader

  Produced by Greg Weeks, Sankar Viswanathan, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note:

  Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  WANDL THE INVADER

  by RAY CUMMINGS

  ACE BOOKS, INC. 23 West 47th Street, New York 36, N.Y.

  Copyright (C), 1961, by Ace Books, Inc.

  Magazine version serialized in _Astounding Stories_, Copyright, 1932, by Clayton Publications, Inc.

  * * * * *

  1

  "It's a planet," I said. "A little world."

  "How little?" Venza demanded.

  "One-fifth the mass of the Moon. That's what they've calculated now."

  "And how far is it away?" Anita asked. "I heard a newscaster sayyesterday...."

  "Newscasters!" Venza broke in scornfully. "Say, you can take what theytell you about any danger or trouble and cut it in half; and even thenyou'll be on the gloomy side. See here, Gregg Haljan."

  "I'm not giving you newscasters' blare," I retorted. Venza'sextravagant vehemence was always refreshing. The Venus girl glared atme. I added: "Anita mentioned newscasters; I didn't."

  Anita was in no mood for smiling. "Tell us, Gregg." She sat uprightand tense, her chin cupped in her hands. "Tell us."

  "For a fact, they don't know much about it yet. You can call it aplanet, a wanderer."

  "I should say it was a wanderer!" Venza exclaimed. "Coming from heavenknows where beyond the stars, swimming in here like a comet."

  "They calculated its distance yesterday at some sixty-five millionmiles from Earth," I said. "It isn't so far beyond the orbit of Mars,coming diagonally and heading very nearly for the Sun. But it's not acomet."

  The thing was indeed inexplicable; for many weeks now, astronomers hadbeen studying it. This was early summer of the year 2070 A.D. All ofus had recently returned from those extraordinary events I havealready recounted, when we came close to losing Johnny Grantline'sradiactum treasure on the Moon, and our lives as well. My ship, the_Planetara_, in the astronomical seasons when the Earth, Mars, andVenus were within comfortable traveling distances of each other, hadcarried mail and passengers from Greater New York to Ferrok-Shahn, ofthe Martian Union, and to Grebhar, of the Venus Free State. Now it waswrecked on the Moon.[1]

  [Footnote 1: See "Brigands of the Moon", Ace Book, D-324]

  I had been under navigating officer of the _Planetara_. Upon her, Ihad met Anita Prince, whose only living relative, her brother, wasamong those killed in the struggle with the brigands; Anita and I weresoon to marry, we hoped.

  I was waiting now in Greater New York upon the decision of the Lineofficials regarding another spaceship. Perhaps I would have command ofit, since Captain Carter of the _Planetara_ had been killed.

  It was a month or so before that adventure, April, 2070, that thismysterious visitor from interstellar space first appeared upon ourastronomical horizon. A little thing, at first, a mere unusual dot, apinpoint on a photo-electric star diagram which should not have beenthere. It occasioned no comment at the time, save that some thought itmight be another planet beyond Pluto; but this was not taken seriouslyenough to get into the newscasts. None of us had heard about it aslate as May, when the _Planetara_ set out on what was to be her finalvoyage.

  Presently, it was seen that the object could not be a planet of oursolar system; Coming in at tremendous speed, it daily changed itsaspect, gathering velocity until soon it was not a dot, but a streakon every diagram-plate.

  In a week or so the thing passed from an astronomical curiosity to anitem of public news. And now, early in June, when it had cut throughthe orbit of Jupiter and was approaching that of Mars, fear wasgrowing. The visitor was a menace. No astronomical body could comeamong us, with a mass as great as a fifth of the Moon, without causingtrouble.

  The newscasters, with a ready skill for lurid possibilities, wereblaring of all sorts of horrible events impending.

  I told the girls all I knew of the approaching wanderer. The densitywas similar to that of Earth. The oncoming velocity and the calculatedelements of its orbit now were such that within a few weeks more thenew planet would round our Sun and presumably head outward again. Itwould pass within a few million miles of us, causing a disturbance toEarth's orbit, even a change of the inclination of our axis, affectingour tides and our climate.

  "So I've heard," Venza interrupted me. "They say that, and then theystop. Why can't a newscaster tell you what is so mysterious?"

  "For a very good reason, Venza: because you can't throw people into apanic. This whole thing, up to today, has been withheld from thepublic of Earth and Venus. The Martian Union tried to withhold it, butcould not. Every heliogram between the worlds is censored."

  "And still," said Venza sarcastically, "you don't tell us what is somysterious about this wanderer."

  "For one thing," I said, "it changes its direction. No normal heavenlybody does that. They calculated the elements of its orbit last April.They've done it twenty times since, and every time the projected orbitis different. Just a little at first, but last week the accursed thingactually took a sudden turn, as though it were a spaceship."

  The girls stared at me. "What does that mean?" Anita asked.

  "They're beginning to make wild guesses but we won't go into that."

  "What else is mysterious?" Venza demanded.

  "The thing isn't normally visible."

  Venza shifted her silk-sheathed legs. "Don't talk in code!"

  "Not normally visible," I repeated. "A world one-fifth as large as theMoon could be seen plainly by our 'scopes when well beyond Pluto. It'snow between Jupiter and Mars, invisible to the naked eye, of course,but still it's not very far away. I've been out there myself. Withinstruments, we ought to be able to see its surface; see whether ithas land and water, inhabitants perhaps. You should be able todistinguish an object on its surface as large as a city, but youcan't."

  "Why not?" asked Anita. "Are the clouds too thick? What causes it?"

  "They don't even know that," I retorted. "There is something abnormalabout the light-waves coming from it. Not exactly blurred, but adistortion, a fading. It's some abnormality of the light-waves."

  A swift rapping on our door-grid interrupted me, and Snap Dean burstin.

  "Hola-lo, everybody! Is it a conference? You look so solemn."

  He dashed across the room, kissed Venza, pretended that he was aboutto kiss Anita, and winked at me. He was a dynamic little fellow,small, wiry, red-headed and freckle-faced, and had been theradio-helio operator of the ill-fated _Planetara_. He was a perfectmatch for Venza, for all the millions of miles that separated theirnative lands. Venza, too was small and slim, her manner as readilyjocular as his.

  "And where have you been?" Venza demanded.

  "Me? My private life is my own, so far. We're not married yet, sinceyou insist on us going to Grebhar for the ceremony."

  "Do stop it," protested Anita. "We've been talking of...."

  "I know very well what you've been talking about. Everybody is. I'vegot news for you, Gregg." He went abruptly solemn and lowered hisvoice. "Halsey wants to see us, right away."

  I regarded him blankly and my mind swept back. No more than a fewshort weeks ago Detective-Colonel Halsey of Divisional Headquartershere in Greater New York had sent for us, and we had been precipitatedinto the Grantline affair. "Halsey!" I burst out.

  "Easy, Gregg." Snap cast a vague look around Anita's draped
apartment.An open window was beside us, leading to a tiny catwalk balcony. Itwas moonlit now, and two hundred feet above the pedestrian viaduct.

  But Snap continued to frown. "Easy, I tell you. Why shout aboutHalsey? The air can have ears."

  Venza moved and closed and sealed the window.

  "What is it?" I asked, more softly.

  But Snap was not satisfied. "Anita, do you have a complete isolationbarrage for this room?"

  "Of course I haven't, Snap."

  "Well, Gregg do you have a detector with you?"

  I had none. Snap produced his little coil and indicator dial. "It'sout of order, but let's see now. Shove over that chair, Gregg."

  He disconnected one of the room's tube-lights and contacted with thecathode. It was a makeshift method, but as he dropped to the floor,uncoiling a little length of his wire for an external pick-up, we sawthat the thing worked. The pointer on the dial-face was swaying.

  "Gregg!" he muttered. "Look at that. Didn't I tell you?"

  The pointer quivered in positive reaction. An eavesdropping ray wasupon us.

  Anita gasped, "I had no idea!"

  "No, but I did." Snap added softly. "No one very close."

  He and I carried the detector to the length of the hall. The indicatorwent nearer normal. "It must be the other way," I whispered.

  We went to the moonlit balcony. "Way down there on the pedestrianarcade," I said.

  "We'll soon fix that," Snap said.

  Inside the room, we made connection with a newscaster's blaring voice.Under cover of it we could talk. Snap gathered us close around him.

  "Halsey has something important, and it's about this interstellarinvader. It all connects. His office paged me on a public mirror. Ihappened to see it at Park-Circle 40. When I answered it, Halsey's manwanted me to talk in code. I can't talk in code; I have enough toworry about with the interplanetary helios. Then they sent me to anofficial booth, where I got examined for positive legalidentification, and then they put me on the official split-wavelength. After all of which precautions I was told to be at Halsey'soffice tonight at midnight, and told a few other things."

  "What?" demanded Venza breathlessly.

  "Only hints. Why take chances, by repeating them now?"

  "You said he wants me, too?" I put in.

  "Yes. You and Venza. We've got to get into his office secretly, by thevacuum cylinders. We're to meet a man from his office at the EighthPostal switch-station."

  "Venza?" Anita said sharply. "What in the universe can he want withVenza? If she's going, I'm going too!"

  Snap gazed at her and grinned. "That sounds like a logical deduction.Naturally he must want you; that's why he said Venza."

  "I'm going," Anita insisted.

  We left half an hour before midnight. The girls were both in gray,with long capes. We took the public monorail into the mid-Manhattansection under the city roof of the business district, and into theEighth Postal switch-station where the sleek bronze cylinders cametumbling out of the vacuum ports to be re-routed and dispatched again.

  A man was on the lookout for us. "Daniel Dean and party?"

  "Yes. We were ordered here."

  The detective gazed at the girls and at me. "It was three, Dean."

  "And now it's four," said Snap cheerfully. "The extra one is MissAnita Prince. Ever heard of her?"

  He had indeed. "All right," he said. "If you and Haljan say so."

  We were put into one of the oversized mail cylinders and routedthrough the tubes like sacks of recorded letters; in ten minutes, witha thump that knocked the breath out of all of us, we were in theswitch-rack of Halsey's outer office.

  We clambered from the cylinder. Our guide led us down one of thegloomy metal corridors. It echoed with our tread.

  A door lifted.

  "Daniel Dean and party."

  The guard stood aside. "Come in."

  The door slid down behind us. We advanced into the small blue-litapartment, steel-lined like a vault.