And Then the Town Took Off

  IV

  Ed Clark took Don to the Superior State Bank and introduced him to thepresident, who was delighted to do business with a representative ofRiggs National of Washington, D. C. Don told him nothing about thecontents of the brief case, but the banker seemed to be under theimpression they were securities or maybe even a million dollars cash,and Don said nothing to spoil his pleasure.

  Outside again, with the receipt in his wallet, Don stood with Clark onthe corner of McEntee Street and Broadway.

  "This is the heart of town, you might say," the newspaper editor said."The bubble gum factory is over that way, on the railroad spur. Maybeyou can smell it. Smells real nice, I think."

  Don rubbed the wrist that had been manacled for so long. He was sniffingpolitely when there was a roar of engines and a squadron of fighterplanes buzzed Broadway.

  They screamed over at little more than roof level, then were gone. Theywere overhead so briefly that Don noticed only that they were P-38's, atleast four of them.

  "Things are beginning to happen," Don said. "The Air Force is having alook-see."

  Clark shook his head. "That wasn't the Air Force. Those were the PPboys. They're the only ones who fly those Lightnings these days."

  "PP?"

  "Private Pilots. Bobby the Bold's airborne vigilantes. Wonder whatthey're up to?"

  "Oh. Senator Bobby Thebold, S.O.B."

  "If you want to put it that way, yes."

  "It's a private joke. But I think I know what they're up to--or why. TheSenator's secretary is marooned up here, like me. She was on the train,too."

  "You don't say! I got scooped on that one. Which one is she?"

  "The redhead. Geneva Jervis. I haven't seen her since last night, cometo think of it."

  The P-38's screamed over again, this time from west to east. Don countedsix planes now and made out the PP markings. People had come out ofstores and business buildings and were looking out of upstairs windowsat the sky. They were rewarded by a third thundering flypast of thefighter planes. They were higher this time, spread out laterally as ifto search maximum terrain.

  "Big deal," Clark said. "This show would bring anyone outdoors, but evenif they see her what do you suppose they can do about it? There's noplace in town flat enough for a Piper Cub to land, let alone a fighterplane."

  "How about the golf course?"

  "Raleigh? Worst set of links in the whole United States. A helicoptercould put down there, but that's about all. What's old Bobby so workedup about, I wonder? Unless there's something to that gossip about thisJervis girl being his mistress and he's showing off for her."

  "He'd show off for anybody, they tell me," Don said. Then he rememberedthat Military Intelligence was listening in. If any pro-Thebold peoplewere among his eavesdroppers, he hoped they respected his private rightto be anti-Thebold.

  At that moment he and Clark were thrown against the side of the bankbuilding. They clung to each other and Don noticed that the sun hadmoved a few degrees in the sky.

  "Oh-oh," Clark grunted. "Superior's taking evasive action. Thinks it'sbeing attacked." As they regained their footing he asked, "Do you feelheavy in the legs?"

  "Yes. As if I were going up in an express elevator."

  "Exactly. Somebody's getting us up beyond the reach of these peskyplanes, I'd guess."

  The P-38's were overhead again, but now they seemed to be diving on thetown. More likely, if Clark's theory was right, it was an illusion--theplanes were flying level but the town was rising fast.

  "They'd better climb," Don said, "or they'll crash!"

  There was the sound of a crash almost immediately, from the south end oftown. Don and Clark ran toward it, fighting the heaviness in their legs.

  A dozen others were ahead of them, running sluggishly across South CreekBridge. Beyond, just short of the edge, was the wreckage of a fighterplane and, behind it, the torn-up ground of a crash landing. There wasno fire.

  The pilot struggled out of the cockpit. He dropped to the ground, felthimself to see if any bones were broken, then saw the crowd runningtoward him.

  The pilot hesitated, then ran toward the edge. Shouts came from thecrowd. With a last glance over his shoulder, the pilot leaped and wentover the edge.

  The crowd, Don and Clark among them, approached more cautiously. Theymade out a falling dot and, a second later, saw a parachute blossomopen. The other planes appeared and flew a wide protective circle aroundthe chutist.

  "Do you think that's Bobby Thebold?" Don asked.

  "Probably not. That was the last plane in the formation. Thebold wouldbe the leader."

  They went back past the crashed plane, surrounded by a growing crowdfrom town, and recrossed the bridge.

  "Look at the water," the editor said. "Ice is forming."

  "And we're still rising," Don said, "if my legs are any judge. Do youthink there's a connection?"

  Clark shrugged. He turned up his coat collar and rubbed his hands. "AllI know is the higher we go the colder we get. Come on back to the shopand warm up."

  They turned at the sound of engines. Two of the five remaining P-38'shad detached themselves from their cover of the chutist and were flyingaround the rim of Superior--as if unwilling to risk another flightacross the surface of the town that seemed determined to become asatellite of Earth.

  * * * * *

  When Don Cort reached the campus he was shivering, in spite of thesweater and topcoat Ed Clark had lent him. He asked a student where theAdministration Building was and at the desk inquired for ProfessorGaret.

  A gray-haired, dedicated-looking woman told him impatiently thatProfessor Garet was in his laboratory and couldn't be disturbed. Shewouldn't tell him where the laboratory was.

  "Have you seen Miss Jervis?" Don wondered whether the redheadappreciated the demonstration her boss, the flying Senator, had put onfor her.

  The woman behind the desk shook her head. "You're two of the people fromthe train, aren't you? Well, you're all supposed to report to the diningroom at two o'clock."

  "What for?"

  "You'll find out at two o'clock."

  It was obvious he would get no more information from her. Don left thebuilding. It was half-past one. He crossed the near-deserted campus. Hislegs still felt heavy and he assumed Superior was still rising. Itcertainly seemed to be getting increasingly colder.

  He wondered how high they were and whether it would snow. He hoped not.How high did you have to be before you got up where it didn't snow anymore? He had no idea. He did recall that Mount Everest was 29,000 feetup and that it snowed up there. Or would it be _down_ there, relativelyspeaking? How high could they be, and didn't anybody care?

  The frosty old receptionist seemed to be typical in herbusiness-as-usual, come-what-may attitude. Even Ed Clark didn't seem asconcerned as he ought to be about Superior's ascent into thestratosphere. Clark was interested, certainly, but he'd given Don theimpression that he was no more curious than he would be about any otherphenomenon he'd write about in next week's paper--a two-headed calf, forinstance.

  Don remembered now that the conquerors of Everest had needed oxygen inthe rarefied atmosphere near the summit and he experimentally took acouple of deep breaths. No difficulty. Therefore they weren't 29,000feet up--yet. Small comfort, he thought, as he shivered again.

  He picked out a building at random. Classes were in session behind theclosed but windowed doors along the hall. From the third door he sawAlis Garet, sitting at the back of a small classroom. Her attention hadwandered from the instructor and when she saw Don she smiled andbeckoned. He hesitated, then opened the door and went in as quietly ashe could. The instructor paused briefly, nodded, then went back to adroning lecture. It seemed to be an English literature class.

  Alis cleared some books off a chair next to her and Don sat down. "Whoturned you loose?" she whispered.

  He realized she was referring to his de-handcuffed wrist and grinned,indicating that he'd tell her later.

  "I
see you've been outfitted for our new climate," she went on. Astudent in the row of chairs ahead turned and frowned. The instructortalked on, oblivious.

  Don nodded and said "_Sh_."

  "Don't let them intimidate you. Did you see the planes?"

  More students were turning and glaring and Don's embarrassment grew."Come on," he said. "Let's cut this class."

  "Bravo!" she said. "Spoken like a true Cavalier."

  She gathered up her books. The instructor, without interrupting hislecture, followed them with his eyes as they left the room.

  "Now I'll never know whether the young princes got out of the toweralive," she said.

  "They didn't. The question is, will we?"

  "I certainly hope so. I'll have to speak to Father about it."

  "He's locked up in his lab, they tell me. Where would that be?"

  "In the tower, as a matter of fact. The bell tower that the foundingfathers built and then didn't have enough money to buy bells for. Butyou can't go up there--it's the holy of holies."

  "Can you?"

  "No. Why? You don't think Father is making all this happen, do you?"

  "Somebody is. Professor Garet seems as good a suspect as any."

  "Oh, he likes to act mysterious, but it's all an act. Poor old Father isjust a crackpot theorist. I told you that. He couldn't pick up steelfiling with a magnet."

  "I wonder. Look, somebody's called a meeting for us outsiders from thetrain at two o'clock. It's almost that now. Maybe I'll have a chance toask some questions. Will your father be there?"

  "I'm sure he will. He's a great meeting-caller. I'll go with you. And,since you have two free hands now, you can hold my books. Maybe lateryou'll get a chance to hold me."

  * * * * *

  Among the people sitting around the bare tables in the dining room, Donrecognized the conductor and other trainmen, two stocky individuals whohad the look of traveling salesmen, an elderly couple who held hands, ayoung couple with a baby, two nuns, a soldier apparently going on orreturning from furlough, and a tall, hawk-nosed man Don classified on noevidence at all as a Shakespearean actor. All had been on the train. Hedidn't see Geneva Jervis anywhere.

  An improvised speaker's table had been set up at one end of the room,near the door to the kitchen. A heavy-set man sat at the table talkingto Mrs. Garet, the professor's wife.

  "The stoutish gentleman next to Mother is the president of Cavalier,"Alis said. "Maynard Rubach. When you talk to him be sure to call him_Doctor_ Rubach. He's not a Ph.D. and he's sensitive about it, but hedid used to be a veterinarian."

  They sat down near the big table and Mrs. Garet smiled and waved atthem. Mayor Civek came in through the kitchen door, licking a finger asif he'd been sampling something on the way, and sat down next to Mrs.Garet.

  At that moment Don's stomach gave a hop and he felt blood rushing to hishead. Others also had pained or nauseous expressions.

  "Ugh," Alis said. "Now what?"

  "I'd guess," Don said when his stomach had settled back in place, "thatwe've stopped rising."

  "You mean we've gone as high as we're going to go?"

  "I hope so. We'd run out of air if we went much higher."

  Professor Garet came in presently, looking pleased with himself. Henodded to his wife and the men next to her and cleared his throat as helooked out over the room.

  "Altitude 21,500 feet," he announced without preamble. "Temperaturesixteen degrees Fahrenheit. From here on out--" he paused, repeated"out" and chuckled--"it's going to be a bit chilly. Those of you who areinadequately clothed will see my wife for extra garments. I believe youhave been comfortably housed and fed. There will, of course, be nocharge for these services while you are the guests of the CavalierInstitute of Applied Sciences. Thank you. I now present Mr. HectorCivek, the mayor of Superior, who will answer any other questions youmay have."

  Don looked at Alis, who shrugged. The conductor stood and opened anotebook which he consulted. "I have a few questions, Mr. Mayor. Thesepeople have asked me to speak for them and there's one question thatoutweighs all the others. That is--are you going to take us back toEarth? If so, when? And how?"

  Civek cleared his throat. He took a sip of water. "As for the firstquestion--we certainly hope to take you and ourselves back to Earth. Ican't answer the others."

  "You hope to?"

  "Earnestly. I turn blue easily myself, and I'm as anxious as you are toget back. But when that will be depends entirely on circumstances.Circumstances, uh, beyond my control."

  "Who's controlling them, then? Your friend with the whiskers?"

  Professor Garet smiled amiably and patted his beard. The portly MaynardRubach got up and Civek sat down.

  "I am Dr. Maynard Rubach, president of Cavalier. I must insist that incommon decency we all refrain from personal references. Mr. Civek hasdone his best to give you an explanation, but of course he is a laymanand, while he has many excellent qualities, we cannot expect him to beconversant with the principles of science. I will therefore attempt toexplain.

  "As you know, science has been aware for hundreds of years that theEarth is a giant magnet...."

  Don saw Geneva Jervis. She was at the kitchen door beyond the speaker'stable.

  "... the isogenic and the isoclinic ..."

  The red-haired Miss Jervis saw Don now and put her finger to her lips.

  "... an ultimote, which is simultaneously an integral part of ..."

  Now the redhead was beckoning to him urgently. He excused himself toAlis, who frowned when she saw the other girl; then he went back of thespeaker's table ("... 1,257 tenescopes to the square centimeter ...")into the kitchen. Jen Jervis was by now at the far end of it, motioninghim to hurry up.

  "I've found something," she said. She was wearing a shapeless fur coat,apparently borrowed.

  "Come on. You'll have to see it."

  "All right, but why me?"

  "Aside from myself you seem to be the only one from the train with anygumption. I know you've been spying around doing things while everybodyelse sat back and waited for deliverance. Though I can't say I admireyour choice of companions. That tawdry blonde--"

  "Now, really, Miss Jervis!"

  "Tawny, then; sometimes I mix up my words."

  "I'll bet."

  She led him out the back door and across the frozen ground past severalbuildings. They reached what once must have been an athletic field.

  "At the far end," she said. "Come on."

  "Where were you when your boy friend and his daredevil aces came over?"

  "I saw them."

  "Did they see you?"

  "None of your business."

  He shrugged. They were at a section of the grandstand at the end of thefield. Jen Jervis indicated a door and Don opened it. It led to a bigroom under the stands. "What does this remind you of?" she asked.

  Don looked blank. In the dim light he could see some planking, along-deflated football, ancient peanut shells and an empty pint bottle."I don't know. What?"

  "Stagg Field? At the University of Chicago? Under the stands where theyfirst made an atomic pile work?" She looked at him with the air of aninvestigator hot on the scent.

  He shrugged. "Never been there. So what?"

  "It's a pattern. This is where they've hidden their secret."

  "It looks more like the place a co-ed and her boy friend might go tohave a little fun. In warmer weather, of course."

  "Oh!" she said. "You're disgusting! Look over there."

  He looked, wondering what made this young attractive womanhypersensitive on the subject of sex. This was the second time she'dblazed up over nothing. What he saw where she pointed was a door at a45-degree angle to the ground, set into a triangular block of concrete."Where does that go?" he asked.

  "Down," she said as they walked toward it. "And there's some machineryor something down there. I heard it. Or maybe I only felt thevibrations. It throbs, anyway."

  "Probably the generator for the school's li
ghting system. Did you godown and look?"

  "No."

  "All right, then." He opened the door. "Down we go."

  At the bottom of a flight of steps there was a corridor lit by dimelectric light bulbs along one wall. The corridor became a tunnel,sloping gradually downward. They had been going north, Don judged, butthen the tunnel made a right turn and now they were following it dueeast. "I don't hear any throbbing," he said.

  "Well, I did, and from way up here. They must have turned it off."

  "How long ago was that?"

  "An hour, maybe."

  "While we were still rising. That would make sense. We've stopped again,you know. Professor Garet gave us a bulletin on it."

  He had been going ahead of her in the narrow tunnel. Now it widened andthey were able to walk side by side. There seemed to be no end to it.But then they came to a sturdy-looking door, padlocked.

  "That's that," Don said.

  "That's that nothing," she said. "Break it down."

  He laughed. "You flatter me. Come on back."

  "Don't you think this is at all peculiar? A tunnel starting under anabandoned grandstand, running all this way and ending in a locked door?"

  "Maybe this was a station on the underground railway. It looks oldenough."

  "We're going through that door." She opened her purse and took out a keyring. On it was an extensive collection of keys. Eventually she foundone that opened the padlock.

  "Well!" he said. "Who taught you _that_?"

  "Open the door."

  The corridor beyond the door was lined--walls, ceiling and floor--with asilvery metal. It continued east a hundred yards or so, swung north andthen went east again, widening all the time.

  It ended in a great room whose far wall was glass or some equallytransparent substance. The room was a huge observatory at the end ofSuperior but below its rim. They could look down from it, not without atouch of nausea, to the Earth four miles below.

  Don, thinking of the surface of Superior above, thought it was as ifthey were looking out of the gondola slung beneath a dirigible.

  Or from one of the lower portholes in a giant flying saucer.