By Hal K. Wells
A strange man of metal comes to Earth on a dreadful mission.
He sat in a small half-darkened booth well over in the corner--the man
with the strangely glowing blue-green eyes.
The booth was one of a score that circled the walls of the "Maori
Hut," a popular night club in the San Fernando Valley some five miles
over the hills from Hollywood.
It was nearly midnight. Half a dozen couples danced lazily in the
central dancing space. Other couples remained tete-a-tete in the
secluded booths.
In the entire room only two men were dining alone. One was the slender
gray-haired little man with the weirdly glowing eyes. The other was
Blair Gordon, a highly successful young attorney of Los Angeles. Both
men had the unmistakable air of waiting for someone.
Blair Gordon's college days were not so far distant that he had yet
lost any of the splendid physique that had made him an All-American
tackle. In any physical combat with the slight gray-haired stranger,
Gordon knew that he should be able to break the other in two with one
hand.
Yet, as he studied the stranger from behind the potted palms that
screened his own booth. Gordon was amazed to find himself slowly being
overcome by an emotion of dread so intense that it verged upon sheer
fear. There was something indescribably alien and utterly sinister in
that dimly seen figure in the corner booth.
The faint eery light that glowed in the stranger's deep-set eyes was
not the lambent flame seen in the chatoyant orbs of some
night-prowling jungle beast. Rather was it the blue-green glow of
phosphorescent witch-light that flickers and dances in the night mists
above steaming tropical swamps.
The stranger's face was as classically perfect in its rugged outline
as that of a Roman war-god, yet those perfect features seemed utterly
lifeless. In the twenty minutes that he had been intently watching the
stranger, Gordon would have sworn that the other's face had not moved
by so much as the twitch of an eye-lash.
* * * * *
Then a new couple entered the Maori Hut, and Gordon promptly forgot
all thought of the puzzlingly alien figure in the corner. The new
arrivals were a vibrantly beautiful blond girl and a plump,
sallow-faced man in the early forties. The girl was Leah Keith,
Hollywood's latest screen sensation. The man was Dave Redding, her
director.
A waiter seated Leah and her escort in a booth directly across the
room from that of Gordon. It was a maneuver for which Gordon had
tipped lavishly when he first came to the Hut.
A week ago Leah Keith's engagement to Blair Gordon had been abruptly
ended by a trivial little quarrel that two volatile temperaments had
fanned into flames which apparently made reconciliation impossible. A
miserably lonely week had finally ended in Gordon's present trip to
the Maori Hut. He knew that Leah often came there, and he had an
overwhelming longing to at least see her again, even though his pride
forced him to remain unseen.
Now, as he stared glumly at Leah through the palms that effectively
screened his own booth, Gordon heartily regretted that he had ever
come. The sight of Leah's clear fresh beauty merely made him realize
what a fool he had been to let that ridiculous little quarrel come
between them.
Then, with a sudden tingling thrill, Gordon realized that he was not
the only one in the room who was interested in Leah and her escort.
Over in the half-darkened corner booth the eery stranger was staring
at the girl with an intentness that made his weird eyes glow like
miniature pools of shimmering blue-green fire. Again Gordon felt that
vague impression of dread, as though he were in the presence of
something utterly alien to all human experience.
* * * * *
Gordon turned his gaze back to Leah, then caught his breath sharply in
sudden amaze. The necklace about Leah's throat was beginning to glow
with the same uncanny blue-green light that shone in the stranger's
eyes! Faint, yet unmistakable, the shimmering radiance pulsed from the
necklace in an aura of nameless evil.
And with the coming of that aura of weird light at her throat, a
strange trance was swiftly sweeping over Leah. She sat there now as
rigidly motionless as some exquisite statue of ivory and jet.
Gordon stared at her in stark bewilderment. He knew the history of
Leah's necklace. It was merely an oddity, and nothing more--a freak
piece of costume jewelry made from fragments of an Arizona meteorite.
Leah had worn the necklace a dozen times before, without any trace of
the weird phenomena that were now occurring.
Dancers again thronged the floor to the blaring jazz of the negro
orchestra while Gordon was still trying to force his whirling brain to
a decision. He was certain that Leah was in deadly peril of some kind,
yet the nature of that peril was too bizarre for his mind to imagine.
Then the stranger with the glowing eyes took matters into his own
hands. He left his booth and began threading his way through the
dancers toward Leah. As he watched the progress of that slight
gray-haired figure Gordon refused to believe the evidence of his own
eyes. The thing was too utterly absurd--yet Gordon was positive that
the strong oak floor of the dancing space was visibly swaying and
creaking beneath the stranger's mincing tread!
* * * * *
The stranger paused at Leah's booth only long enough to utter a brief
low-voiced command. Then Leah, still in the grip of that strange
trance, rose obediently from her seat to accompany him.
Dave Redding rose angrily to intercept her. The stranger seemed to
barely brush the irate director with his finger tips, yet Redding
reeled back as though struck by a pile-driver. Leah and the stranger
started for the door. Redding scrambled to his feet again and hurried
after them.
It was then that Gordon finally shook off the stupor of utter
bewilderment that had held him. Springing from his booth, he rushed
after the trio.
The dancers in his way delayed Gordon momentarily. Leah and the
stranger were already gone when he reached the door. The narrow little
entrance hallway to the Hut was deserted save for a figure sprawled
there on the floor near the outer door.
It was the body of Dave Redding. Gordon shuddered as he glanced
briefly down at the huddled figure. A single mighty blow from some
unknown weapon had crumpled the director's entire face in, like the
shattered shell of a broken egg.
* * * * *
Gordon charged on through the outer door just as a heavy sedan came
careening out of the parking lot. He had a flashing glimpse of Leah
and the stranger in the front seat of the big car.
Gordon raced for his own machine, a powerful low-slung roadster. A
single vicious jab at the starting button, and the big motor leaped
into roaring life. Gordon shot out from the parking lot onto the main
boulevard. A hundred yards away the sedan was fleeing toward
Hollywood.
Gordon tramped hard on the accelerator. His engine snarled with the
unleashed fury of a hundred horsepower. The gap between the two cars
swiftly lessened.
Then the stranger seemed to become aware for the first time that he
was being followed. The next second the big sedan accelerated with the
hurtling speed of a flying bullet. Gordon sent his own foot nearly to
the floor. The roadster jumped to eighty miles an hour, yet the sedan
continued to leave it remorselessly behind.
The two cars started up the northern slope of Cahuenga Pass with the
sedan nearly two hundred yards ahead, and gaining all the time. Gordon
wondered briefly if they were to flash down the other side of the Pass
and on into Hollywood at their present mad speed.
Then at the summit of the Pass the sedan swerved abruptly to the right
and fled west along the Mulholland Highway. Gordon's tires screamed as
he swerved the roadster in hot pursuit.
* * * * *
The dark winding mountain highway was nearly deserted at that hour of
the night. Save for an occasional automobile that swerved frantically
to the side of the road to dodge the roaring onslaught of the racing
cars, Gordon and the stranger had the road to themselves.
The stranger seemed no longer to be trying to leave his pursuer
hopelessly behind. He allowed Gordon to come within a hundred yards of
him. But that was as near as Gordon could get, is spite of the
roadster's best efforts.
Half a dozen times Gordon trod savagely upon his accelerator in a
desperate attempt to close the gap, but each time the sedan fled with
the swift grace of a scudding phantom. Finally Gordon had to content
himself with merely keeping his distance behind the glowing red
tail-light of the car ahead.
They passed Laurel Canyon, and still the big sedan bored on to the
west. Then finally, half a dozen miles beyond Laurel Canyon, the
stranger abruptly left the main highway and started up a narrow
private road to the crest of one of the lonely hills. Gordon slowly
gained in the next two miles. When the road ended in a winding
gravelled driveway into the grounds of what was apparently a private
estate, the roadster was scarcely a dozen yards behind.
The stranger's features as he stood there stiffly erect in the vivid
glare of the roadster's headlights were still as devoid of all
expression as ever. The only things that really seemed alive in that
masque of a face were the two eyes, glowing eery blue-green fire like
twin entities of alien evil.
Gordon wasted no time in verbal sparring. He motioned briefly to Leah
Keith's rigid form in the front seat of the sedan.
"Miss Keith is returning to Hollywood with me," he said curtly. "Will
you let her go peaceably, or shall I--?" He left the question
unfinished, but its threat was obvious.
"Or shall you do what?" asked the stranger quietly. There was an oddly
metallic ring in his low even tones. His words were so precisely
clipped that they suggested some origin more mechanical than human.
"Or shall I take Miss Keith with me by force?" Gordon flared angrily.
"You can try to take the lady by force--if you wish." There was an
unmistakable jeering note in the metallic tones.
The taunt was the last thing needed to unleash Gordon's volatile
temper. He stepped forward and swung a hard left hook for that
expressionless masque of a face. But the blow never landed. The
stranger dodged with uncanny swiftness. His answering gesture seemed
merely the gentlest possible push with an outstretched hand, yet
Gordon was sent reeling backward a full dozen steps by the terrific
force of that apparently gentle blow.
* * * * *
Recovering himself, Gordon grimly returned to the attack. The stranger
again flung out one hand in the contemptuous gesture with which one
would brush away a troublesome fly, but this time Gordon was more
cautious. He neatly dodged the stranger's blow, then swung a vicious
right squarely for his adversary's unprotected jaw.
The blow smashed solidly home with all of Gordon's weight behind it.
The stranger's jaw buckled and gave beneath that shattering impact.
Then abruptly his entire face crumpled into distorted ruin. Gordon
staggered back a step in sheer horror at the gruesome result of his
blow.
The stranger flung a hand up to his shattered features. When his hand
came away again, his whole face came away with it!
Gordon had one horror-stricken glimpse of a featureless blob of
rubbery bluish-gray flesh in which fiendish eyes of blue-green fire
blazed in malignant fury.
Then the stranger fumbled at his collar, ripping the linen swiftly
away. Something lashed out from beneath his throat--a loathsome
snake-like object, slender and forked at the end. For one ghastly
moment, as the writhing tentacle swung into line with him, Gordon saw
its forked ends glow strange fire--one a vivid blue, the other a
sparkling green.
Then the world was abruptly blotted out for Blair Gordon.
* * * * *
Consciousness returned to Gordon as swiftly and painlessly as it had
left him. For a moment he blinked stupidly in a dazed effort to
comprehend the incredible scene before him.
He was seated in a chair over near the wall of a large room that was
flooded with livid red light from a single globe overhead. Beside him
sat Leah Keith, also staring with dazed eyes in an effort to
comprehend her surroundings. Directly in front of them stood a figure
of stark nightmare horror.
The weirdly glowing eyes identified the figure as that of the stranger
at the Maori Hut, but there every point of resemblance ceased. Only
the cleverest of facial masques and body padding could ever have
enabled this monstrosity to pass unnoticed in a world of normal human
beings.
Now that his disguise was completely stripped away, his slight frame
was revealed as a grotesque parody of that of a human being, with arms
and legs like pipe-stems, a bald oval head that merged with neckless
rigidity directly into a heavy-shouldered body that tapered into an
almost wasp-like slenderness at the waist. He was naked save for a
loin cloth of some metallic fabric. His bluish-gray skin had a dull
oily sheen strangely suggestive of fine grained flexible metal.
The creature's face was hideously unlike anything human. Beneath the
glowing eyes was a small circular mouth orifice with a cluster of
gill-like appendages on either side of it. Patches of lighter-colored
skin on either side of the head seemed to serve as ears. From a point
just under the head, where the throat of a human being would have
been, dangled the foot-and-a-half long tentacle whose forked tip had
sent Gordon into oblivion.
Behind the creature Gordon was dimly aware of a maze of complicated
and utterly unfamiliar apparatus ranged along the opposite wall,
giving the room the appearance of being a laboratory of some kind.
* * * * *
Gordon's obvious bewilderment seemed to amuse the bluish-gray
monstrosity. "May I introduce myself?" he asked with a mocking note in
his metallic voice. "I am Arlok of Xoran. I am an explorer of Space,
and more particularly an Opener of Gates. My home is upon Xoran, which
is one of the eleven major planets that circle about the giant
blue-white sun that your astronomers call Rigel. I am here to open the
Gate between your world and mine."
Gordon reached a reassuring hand over to Leah. All memory of their
quarrel was obliterated in the face of their present peril. He felt
her slender fingers twine firmly with his. The warm contact gave them
both new courage.
"We of Xoran need your planet and intend to take possession of it,"
Arlok continued, "but the vast distance which separates Rigel from
your solar system makes it impracticable to transport any considerable
number of our people here in space-cars for, though our space-cars
travel with practically the speed of light, it requires over five
hundred and forty years for them to cross that great void. So I was
sent as a lone pioneer to your Earth to do the work necessary here in
order to open the Gate that will enable Xoran to cross the barrier in
less than a minute of your time.
* * * * *
"That gate is the one through the fourth dimension, for Xoran and your
planet in a four-dimensional universe are almost touching each other
in spite of the great distance separating them in a three-dimensional
universe. We of Xoran, being three-dimensional creatures like you
Earthlings, can not even exist on a four-dimensional plane. But we
can, by the use of apparatus to open a Gate, pass through a thin
sector of the fourth dimension and emerge in a far distant part of our
three-dimensional universe.
"The situation of our two worlds," Arlok continued, "is somewhat like
that of two dots on opposite ends of a long strip of paper that is
curved almost into a circle. To two-dimensional beings capable only of
realizing and traveling along the two dimensions of the paper itself
those dots might be many feet apart, yet in the third dimension
straight across free space they might be separated by only the
thousandth part of an inch. In order to take that short cut across the
third dimension the two-dimensional creatures of the paper would have
only to transform a small strip of the intervening space into a
two-dimensional surface like their paper.
"They could, do this, of course, by the use of proper
vibration-creating machinery, for all things in a material universe
are merely a matter of vibration. We of Xoran plan to cross the
barrier of the fourth dimension by creating a narrow strip of
vibrations powerful enough to exactly match and nullify those of the
fourth dimension itself. The result will be that this narrow strip
will temporarily become an area of three dimensions only, an area over
which we can safely pass from our world to yours."
* * * * *
Arlok indicated one of the pieces of apparatus along the opposite wall
of the room. It was an intricate arrangement of finely wound coils
with wires leading to scores of needle-like points which constantly
shimmered and crackled with tiny blue-white flames. Thick cables ran
to a bank of concave reflectors of some gleaming grayish metal.
"There is the apparatus which will supply the enormous power necessary
to nullify the vibrations of the fourth dimensional barrier," Arlok
explained. "It is a condenser and adapter of the cosmic force that you
call the Millikan rays. In Xoran a similar apparatus is already set up
and finished, but the Gate can only be opened by simultaneous actions
from both sides of the barrier. That is why I was sent on my long
journey through space to do the necessary work here. I am now nearly
finished. A very few hours more will see the final opening of the
Gate. Then the fighting hordes of Xoran can sweep through the barrier
and overwhelm your planet.
"When the Gate from Xoran to a new planet is first opened," Arlok
continued, "our scientists always like to have at least one pair of
specimens of the new world's inhabitants sent through to them for
experimental use. So to-night, while waiting for one of my final
castings to cool, I improved the time by making a brief raid upon the
place that you call the Maori Hut. The lady here seemed an excellent
type of your Earthling women, and the meteoric iron in her necklace
made a perfect focus for electric hypnosis. Her escort was too
inferior a specimen to be of value to me so I killed him when he
attempted to interfere. When you gave chase I lured you on until I
could see whether you might be usable. You proved an excellent
specimen, so I merely stunned you. Very soon now I shall be ready to
send the two of you through the Gate to our scientists in Xoran."
* * * * *
A cold wave of sheer horror swept over Gordon. It was impossible to
doubt the stark and deadly menace promised in the plan of this grim
visitor from an alien universe--a menace that loomed not only for
Gordon and Leah but for the teeming millions of a doomed and
defenseless world.
"Let me show you Xoran," Arlok offered. "Then you may be better able
to understand." He turned his back carelessly upon his two captives
and strode over to the apparatus along the opposite wall.
Gordon longed to hurl himself upon the unprotected back of the
retreating Xoranian, but he knew that any attempt of that kind would
be suicidal. Arlok's deadly tentacle would strike him down before he
was halfway across the room.
He searched his surroundings with desperate eyes for anything that
might serve as a weapon. Then his pulse quickened with sudden hope.
There on a small table near Leah was the familiar bulk of a .45
calibre revolver, loaded and ready for use. It was included in a
miscellaneous collection of other small earthly tools and objects that
Arlok had apparently collected for study.
There was an excellent chance that Leah might be able to secure the
gun unobserved. Gordon pressed her fingers in a swift attempt at
signalling, then jerked his head ever so slightly toward the table. A
moment later the quick answering pressure of Leah's fingers told him
that she had understood his message. From the corner of his eye Gordon
saw Leah's other hand begin cautiously groping behind her for the
revolver.
* * * * *
Then both Gordon and Leah froze into sudden immobility as Arlok faced
them again from beside an apparatus slightly reminiscent of an earthly
radio set. Arlok threw a switch, and a small bank of tubes glowed pale
green. A yard-square plate of bluish-gray metal on the wall above the
apparatus glowed with milky fluorescence.
"It is easy to penetrate the barrier with light waves," Arlok
explained. "That is a Gate that can readily be opened from either
side. It was through it that we first discovered your Earth."
Arlok threw a rheostat on to more power. The luminous plate cleared
swiftly. "And there, Earthlings, is Xoran!" Arlok said proudly.
Leah and Gordon gasped in sheer amaze as the glowing plate became a
veritable window into another world--a world of utter and alien
terror.
The livid light of a giant red sun blazed mercilessly down upon a
landscape from which every vestige of animal and plant life had
apparently been stripped. Naked rocks and barren soil stretched
illimitably to the far horizon in a vast monotony of utter desolation.
Arlok twirled the knob of the apparatus, and another scene flashed
into view. In this scene great gleaming squares and cones of metal
rose in towering clusters from the starkly barren land. Hordes of
creatures like Arlok swarmed in and around the metal buildings. Giant
machines whirled countless wheels in strange tasks. From a thousand
great needle-like projections on the buildings spurted shimmering
sheets of crackling flame, bathing the entire scene in a whirling mist
of fiery vapors.
Gordon realized dimly that he must be looking into one of the cities
of Xoran, but every detail of the chaotic whirl of activity was too
utterly unfamiliar to carry any real significance to his bewildered
brain. He was as hopelessly overwhelmed as an African savage would be
if transported suddenly into the heart of Times Square.
* * * * *
Arlok again twirled the knob. The scene shifted, apparently to another
planet. This world was still alive, with rich verdure and swarming
millions of people strangely like those of Earth. But it was a doomed
world. The dread Gate to Xoran had already been opened here. Legions
of bluish-gray Xoranians were attacking the planet's inhabitants, and
the attack of those metallic hosts was irresistible.
The slight bodies of the Xoranians seemed as impervious to bullets and
missiles as though armor-plated. The frantic defense of the
beleaguered people of the doomed planet caused hardly a casualty in
the Xoranian ranks.
The attack of the Xoranians was hideously effective. Clouds of dense
yellow fog belched from countless projectors in the hands of the
bluish-gray hosts, and beneath that deadly miasma all animal and plant
life on the doomed planet was crumbling, dying, and rotting into a
liquid slime. Then even the slime was swiftly obliterated, and the
Xoranians were left triumphant upon a world starkly desolate.
"That was one of the minor planets in the swarm that make up the solar
system of the sun that your astronomers call Canopus," Arlok
explained. "Our first task in conquering a world is to rid it of the
unclean surface scum of animal and plant life. When this noxious
surface mold is eliminated, the planet is then ready to furnish us
sustenance, for we Xoranians live directly upon the metallic elements
of the planet itself. Our bodies are of a substance of which your
scientists have never even dreamed--deathless, invincible, living
metal!"
* * * * *
Arlok again twirled the control of the apparatus and the scene was
shifted back to the planet of Xoran, this time to the interior of what
was apparently a vast laboratory. Here scores of Xoranian scientists
were working upon captives who were pathetically like human beings of
Earth itself, working with lethal gases and deadly liquids as human
scientists might experiment upon noxious pests. The details of the
scene were so utterly revolting, the tortures that were being
inflicted so starkly horrible, that Leah and Gordon sank back in their
chairs sick and shaken.
Arlok snapped off a switch, and the green light in the tubes died.
"That last scene was the laboratory to which I shall send you two
presently," he said callously as he started back across the room
toward them.
Gordon lurched to his feet, his brain a seething whirl of hate in
which all thought of caution was gone as he tensed his muscles to hurl
himself upon that grim monstrosity from the bleak and desolate realm
of Xoran.
Then he felt Leah tugging surreptitiously at his right hand. The next
moment the bulk of something cold and hard met his fingers. It was the
revolver. Leah had secured it while Arlok was busy with his
inter-dimensional televisor.
Arlok was rapidly approaching them. Gordon hoped against hope that the
menace of that deadly tentacle might be diverted for the fraction of a
second necessary for him to get in a crippling shot. Leah seemed to
divine his thought. She suddenly screamed hysterically and flung
herself on the floor almost at Arlok's feet.
* * * * *
Arlok stopped in obvious wonder and bent over Leah. Gordon took
instant advantage of the Xoranian's diverted attention. He whipped the
revolver from behind him and fired point-blank at Arlok's unprotected
head.
The bullet struck squarely, but Arlok was not even staggered. A tiny
spot of bluish-gray skin upon his oval skull gleamed faintly for a
moment under the bullet's impact. Then the heavy pellet of lead, as
thoroughly flattened as though it had struck the triple armor of a
battleship, dropped spent and harmless to the floor.
Arlok straightened swiftly. For the moment he seemed to have no
thought of retaliating with his deadly tentacle. He merely stood there
quite still with one thin arm thrown up to guard his glowing eyes.
Gordon sent the remainder of the revolver's bullets crashing home as
fast as his finger could press the trigger. At that murderously short
range the smashing rain of lead should have dropped a charging
gorilla. But for all the effect Gordon's shots had upon the Xoranian,
his ammunition might as well have been pellets of paper. Arlok's
glossy hide merely, glowed momentarily in tiny patches as the bullets
struck and flattened harmlessly--and that was all.
His last cartridge fired, Gordon flung the empty weapon squarely at
the blue monstrosity's hideous face. Arlok made no attempt to dodge.
The heavy revolver struck him high on the forehead, then rebounded
harmlessly to the floor. Arlok paid no more attention to the blow than
a man would to the casual touch of a wind-blown feather.
Gordon desperately flung himself forward upon the Xoranian in one last
mad effort to overwhelm him. Arlok dodged Gordon's wild blows, then
gently swept the Earth man into the embrace of his thin arms. For one
helpless moment Gordon sensed the incredible strength and adamantine
hardness of the Xoranian's slender figure, together with an
overwhelming impression of colossal weight in that deceptively slight
body.
* * * * *
Then Arlok contemptuously flung Gordon away from him. As Gordon
staggered backward, Arlok's tentacle lashed upward and levelled upon
him. Its twin tips again glowed brilliant green and livid blue.
Instantly every muscle in Gordon's body was paralyzed. He stood there
as rigid as a statue, his body completely deadened from the neck down.
Beside him stood Leah, also frozen motionless in that same weird
power.
"Earthling, you are beginning to try my patience," Arlok snapped. "Can
you not realize that I am utterly invincible in any combat with you?
The living metal of my body weighs over sixteen hundred pounds, as you
measure weight. The strength inherent in that metal is sufficient to
tear a hundred of your Earth men to shreds. But I do not even have to
touch you to vanquish you. The electric content of my bodily structure
is so infinitely superior to yours that with this tentacle-organ of
mine I can instantly short-circuit the feeble currents of your nerve
impulses and bring either paralysis or death as I choose.
"But enough of this!" Arlok broke off abruptly. "My materials are now
ready, and it is time that I finished my work. I shall put you out of
my way for a few hours until I am ready to send you through the Gate
to the laboratories of Xoran."
The green and blue fire of the tentacle's tips flamed to dazzling
brightness. The paralysis of Gordon's body swept swiftly over his
brain. Black oblivion engulfed him.
* * * * *
When Gordon again recovered consciousness he found that he was lying
on the floor of what was apparently a narrow hall, near the foot of a
stairway. His hands were lashed tightly behind him, and his feet and
legs were so firmly pinioned together that he could scarcely move.
Beside him lay Leah, also tightly bound. A short distance down the
hall was the closed door of Arlok's work-room, recognizable by the
thin line of red light gleaming beneath it.
Moonlight through a window at the rear of the hall made objects around
Gordon fairly clear. He looked at Leah and saw tears glistening on her
long lashes.
"Oh, Blair, I was afraid you'd never waken again," the girl sobbed. "I
thought that fiend had killed you!" Her voice broke hysterically.
"Steady, darling," Gordon said soothingly. "We simply can't give up
now, you know. If that monstrosity ever opens that accursed Gate of
his our entire world is doomed. There must be some way to stop him.
We've got to find that way and try it--even if it seems only one
forlorn chance in a million."
* * * * *
Gordon shook his head to clear the numbness still lingering from the
effect of Arlok's tentacle. The Xoranian seemed unable to produce a
paralysis of any great duration with his weird natural weapon.
Accordingly, he had been forced to bind his captives like two trussed
fowls while he returned to his labors.
Lying close together as they were, it was a comparatively easy matter
for them to get their bound hands within reach of each other, but
after fifteen minutes of vain work Gordon realized that any attempt at
untying the ropes was useless. Arlok's prodigious strength had drawn
the knots so tight that no human power could ever loosen them.
Then Gordon suddenly thought of the one thing in his pockets that
might help them. It was a tiny cigarette lighter, of the
spring-trigger type. It was in his vest pocket completely out of reach
of his bound hands, but there was a way out of that difficulty.
Gordon and Leah twisted and rolled their bodies like two
contortionists until they succeeded in getting into such a position
that Leah was able to get her teeth in the cloth of the vest pocket's
edge. A moment of desperate tugging, then the fabric gave way. The
lighter dropped from the torn pocket to the floor, where Leah
retrieved it.
Then they twisted their bodies back to back. Leah managed to get the
lighter flaming in her bound hands. Gordon groped in an effort to
guide the ropes on his wrists over the tiny flickering flame.
* * * * *
Then there came the faint welcome odor of smoldering rope as the
lighter's tiny flame bit into the bonds. Gordon bit his lips to
suppress a cry of pain as the flame seared into his skin as well. The
flame bit deeper into the rope. A single strand snapped.
Then another strand gave way. To Gordon the process seemed endless as
the flame scorched rope and flesh alike. A long minute of lancing
agony that seemed hours--then Gordon could stand no more. He tensed
his muscles in one mighty agonized effort to end the torture of the
flame.
The weakened rope gave way completely beneath that pain-maddened
lunge. Gordon's hands were free. It was an easy matter now to use the
lighter to finish freeing himself and Leah. They made their way
swiftly back to the window at the rear of the hall. It slid silently
upward. A moment later, and they were out in the brilliant
moonlight--free.
They made their way around to the front of the house. Behind the drawn
shades of one of the front rooms an eery glow of red light marked the
location of Arlok's work-room. They heard the occasional clink of
tools inside the room as the Xoranian diligently worked to complete
his apparatus.
They crept stealthily up to where one of the French windows of Arlok's
work-room swung slightly ajar. Through the narrow crevice they could
see Arlok's grotesque back as he labored over the complex assembly of
apparatus against the wall.
A heavy stone flung through the window would probably wreck that
delicate mechanism completely, yet the two watchers knew that such a
respite would be only a temporary one. As long as Arlok remained alive
on this planet to build other gates to Xoran, Earth's eventual doom
was certain. Complete destruction of Arlok himself was Earth's only
hope of salvation.
* * * * *
The Xoranian seemed to be nearing the end of his labors. He left the
apparatus momentarily and walked over to a work-bench where he picked
up a slender rod-like tool. Donning a heavy glove to shield his left
hand, he selected a small plate of bluish-gray metal, then pressed a
switch in the handle of the tool in his right hand.
A blade of blinding white flame, seemingly as solid as a blade of
metal, spurted for the length of a foot from the tool's tip. Arlok
began cutting the plate with the flame, the blade shearing through the
heavy metal as easily as a hot knife shears through butter.
The sight brought a sudden surge of exultant hope to Gordon. He
swiftly drew Leah away from the window, far enough to the side that
their low-voiced conversation could not be heard from inside the
work-room.
"Leah, there is our one chance!" he explained excitedly. "That blue
fiend _is_ vulnerable, and that flame-tool of his is the weapon to
reach his vulnerability. Did you notice how careful he was to shield
his other hand with a glove before he turned the tool on? He can be
hurt by that blade of flame, and probably hurt badly."
Leah nodded in quick understanding. "If I could lure him out of the
room for just a moment, you could slip in through the window and get
that flame-tool, Blair," she suggested eagerly.
"That might work," Gordon agreed reluctantly. "But, Leah, don't run
any more risks than you absolutely have to!" He picked up a small
rock. "Here, take this with you. Open the door into the hall and
attract Arlok's attention by throwing the rock at his precious
apparatus. Then the minute he sees you, try to escape out through the
hall again. He'll leave his work to follow you. When he returns to his
work-room I'll be in there waiting for him. And I'll be waiting with a
weapon that can stab through even that armor-plated hide of his!"
They separated, Leah to enter the house, Gordon to return to the
window.
* * * * *
Arlok was back over in front of the apparatus, fitting into place the
piece of metal he had just cut. The flame-tool, its switch now turned
off, was still on the work-bench.
Gordon's heart pounded with excitement as he crouched there with his
eyes fixed upon the closed hall door. The minutes seemed to drag
interminably. Then suddenly Gordon's muscles tensed. The knob of the
hall door had turned ever so slightly. Leah was at her post!
The next moment the door was flung open with a violence that sent it
slamming back against the wall. The slender figure of Leah stood
framed in the opening, her dark eyes blazing as she flung one hand up
to hurl her missile.
Arlok whirled just as Leah threw the rock straight at the intricate
Gate-opening apparatus. With the speed of thought the Xoranian flung
his own body over to shield his fragile instruments. The rock thudded
harmlessly against his metallic chest.
Then Arlok's tentacle flung out like a striking cobra, its forked tip
flaming blue and green fire as it focussed upon the open door. But
Leah was already gone. Gordon heard her flying footsteps as she raced
down the hall. Arlok promptly sped after her in swift pursuit.
As Arlok passed through the door into the hall Gordon flung himself
into the room, and sped straight for the work-bench. He snatched the
flame-tool up, then darted over to the wall by the door. He was not a
second too soon. The heavy tread of Arlok's return was already audible
in the hall just outside.
Gordon prepared to stake everything upon his one slim chance of
disabling that fearful tentacle before Arlok could bring it into
action. He pressed the tiny switch in the flame-tool's handle just as
Arlok came through the door.
* * * * *
Arlok, startled by the glare of the flame-tool's blazing blade,
whirled toward Gordon--but too late. That thin searing shaft of vivid
flame had already struck squarely at the base of the Xoranian's
tentacle. A seething spray of hissing sparks marked the place where
the flame bit deeply home. Arlok screamed, a ghastly metallic note of
anguish like nothing human.
The Xoranian's powerful hands clutched at Gordon, but he leaped
lithely backward out of their reach. Then Gordon again attacked, the
flame-tool's shining blade licking in and out like a rapier. The
searing flame swept across one of Arlok's arms, and the Xoranian
winced. Then the blade stabbed swiftly at Arlok's waist. Arlok
half-doubled as he flinched back. Gordon shifted his aim with
lightning speed and sent the blade of flame lashing in one accurate
terrible stroke that caught Arlok squarely in the eyes.
Again Arlok screamed in intolerable agony as that tearing flame
darkened forever his glowing eyes. In berserker fury the tortured
Xoranian charged blindly toward Gordon. Gordon warily dodged to one
side. Arlok, sightless, and with his tentacle crippled, still had
enough power in that mighty metallic body of his to tear a hundred
Earth men to pieces.
Gordon stung Arlok's shoulder with the flame, then desperately leaped
to one side just in time to dodge a flailing blow that would have made
pulp of his body had it landed.
Arlok went stark wild in his frenzied efforts to come to grips with
his unseen adversary. Furniture crashed and splintered to kindling
wood beneath his threshing feet. Even the stout walls of the room
shivered and cracked as the incredible weight of Arlok's body caromed
against them.
* * * * *
Gordon circled lithely around the crippled blue monstrosity like a
timber wolf circling a wounded moose. He began concentrating his
attack upon Arlok's left leg. Half a dozen deep slashes with the
searing flame--then suddenly the thin leg crumpled and broke. Arlok
crashed helplessly to the floor.
Gordon was now able to shift his attack to Arlok's head. Dodging the
blindly flailing arms of the Xoranian, he stabbed again and again at
that oval-shaped skull.
The searing thrusts began to have their effect. Arlok's convulsive
movements became slower and weaker. Gordon sent the flame stabbing in
a long final thrust in an attempt to pierce through to that alien
metal brain.
With startling suddenness the flame burned its way home to some
unknown center of life force in the oval skull. There was a brief but
appalling gush of bright purple flame from Arlok's eye-sockets and
mouth orifice. Then his twitching body stiffened. His bluish-gray hide
darkened with incredible swiftness into a dull black. Arlok was dead.
Gordon, sickened at the grisly ending to the battle, snapped off the
flame-tool and turned to search for Leah. He found her already
standing in the hall door, alive, and unhurt.
* * * * *
"I escaped through the window at the end of the hall," she explained.
"Arlok quit following me as soon as he saw that you too were gone from
where he had left us tied." She shuddered as she looked down at the
Xoranian's mangled body. "I saw most of your fight with him, Blair. It
was terrible; awful. But, Blair, we've won!"
"Yes, and now we'll make sure of the fruits of our victory," Gordon
said grimly, starting over toward the Gate-opening apparatus with the
flame-tool in his hand. A very few minutes' work with the shearing
blade of flame reduced the intricate apparatus to a mere tangled pile
of twisted metal.
Arlok, Gate-opener of Xoran, was dead--and the Gate to that grim
planet was now irrevocably closed!
"Blair, do you feel it too, that eery feeling of countless eyes still
watching us from Xoran?" There was frank awe in Leah's half-whispered
question. "You know Arlok said that they had watched us for centuries
from their side of the barrier. I'm sure they're watching us now. Will
they send another Opener of Gates to take up the work where Arlok
failed?"
Gordon took Leah into his arms. "I don't know, dear," he admitted
gravely. "They may send another messenger, but I doubt it. This world
of ours has had its warning, and it will heed it. The watchers on
Xoran must know that in the five hundred and forty years it would take
their next messenger to get here, the Earth will have had more than
enough time to prepare an adequate defense for even Xoran's menace. I
doubt if there will ever again be an attempt made to open the Gate to
Xoran."
[Illustration: _The great ship tore apart._]
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