AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Trucks.”
“And if our enemies are trying to freeze us into submission, would they let us save ourselves by running trucks day and night to distant forests for fuel? No. They would blow up the roads and bomb the trucks. It would take much wood to keep us warm. We could not run any sort of blockade—or cut wood under fire from an enemy. No.”
“The river, then?”
Duquesne spread his hands. “You have imagination, my boy. But already it is too cold. And to build a dam and a hydro-electric plant takes months. I have thought of those things.”
“In other words,” Shirley said slowly, “if you are right about the Midianites being in possession of the power-plant, we’ll have to take it way from them—or beat them somehow. Or else—”
James grinned bitterly. “Why not just leave it at, ‘or else’?”
The Frenchman rose. “That is told in confidence. I may be mistaken in my conjectures. I shall now search for Tony further. He will in any case appear for luncheon.” He left them, and they heard the nervous click of his heels as his short legs carried his large body down the hall.
“Not so good,” said Shirley Cotton.
James went to the window. Down on the street below, people moved hither and thither. A few of the Bronson Beta automobiles shot back and forth on their roadways, and wound the spiral ramps of buildings. Overhead in the green sky the sun shone, brightening the city, touching with splendor its many-colored facets.
Then a mighty bell sent a rolling reverberation over the district. James turned from the window. “Lunch,” he said.
He went with the girl to the dining-room. The five-hundred-odd inhabitants of Hendron were gathering. They came together on the street outside the dining-hall in twos and threes, and moved through the wide doorway to their appointed places. They talked and laughed and joked with each other, and on the faces only of a minority was an expression of unalterable apprehension. The rest were at least calm.
In ten minutes the hall was a bedlam of voices and clatterings, and the women on duty as waitresses hurried from the kitchens with huge trays.
Higgins invaded this peaceful and commonplace scene in great excitement. Instead of taking his place, he went to Tony—who was engaged in earnest private conversation with Duquesne—and spoke for a moment. Tony stood, then, and struck a note on a gong. Immediate silence was the response to the sound.
“Doctor Higgins,” said Tony, “has made a discovery.”
Higgins stood. This ritual had been followed in the announcement of hundreds of discoveries relative to Bronson Beta, and the life, arts and sciences of its original inhabitants.
“It concerns the greenness of the sky,” Higgins said. “We have all remarked upon it. We have agreed that normal light polarization would always produce blue. We have agreed that any gases which would cause a green tint in atmosphere—halogens, for example—would also be poisonous.
“This morning at seven-eighty, Bronson Beta time, we had a green rain of nine and a half Bronson Beta minutes’ duration. I collected the precipitated substance. It proved to be the explanation of our atmospheric color.” He took a vial from his pocket and held it up. Its contents were green. “The color is caused by this. A new form of life—a type of plant unknown on earth. You are all familiar with the algæ in the sea—minute plants which floated in the oceans of earth in such numbers as to change the color in many places. Very well. The higher atmosphere of Bronson Beta is crowded by plants in some ways similar. These plants are in effect tiny balloons. They germinate on the surface of the earth apparently, in the spring. As they grow (the ground everywhere must be covered by them), they manufacture within themselves hydrogen gas. They swell with it until, like small balloons, they rise. Their hydrogen holds them suspended high in the atmosphere during the summer and fall—trillions upon countless trillions of them. They make a level of thin, greenish fog overhead. Examined microscopically, they reveal their secret at once.
“There is sufficient carbon dioxide and moisture to nourish them. They live by simple photosynthesis; and it is the chlorophyll they contain which makes them green—a characteristic of all terrestrial plants except the parasites. These plants reproduce from spores.”
Higgins sat down.
His brief description was greeted by applause in which the botanists and biologists were most vehement.
Carter stood up. “About their precipitation, Higgins?”
Again Higgins took the floor. “I have only a theory to offer. Temperature. I believe that, although they are resistant to cold, an adequate drop in temperature will cause them to crack and lose their hydrogen. Then, naturally, they fall to earth.”
“So you anticipate more green rain?”
“I do—a tremendous volume of it. And I may add that these plants fix nitrogen, so that their dead bodies, so to speak, will constitute a fine fertilizer, laid annually upon the soil of the entire planet.”
Carter nodded. “Excellent, Higgins! Have you made calculations relative to the possible and probable depth of ‘green rain’ we may expect?”
“Only the roughest sort. I shall work on that at once, of course.”
Again there was applause. Other questions were asked. The bottle began to pass from hand to hand. The meal was resumed. It did not continue long without interruption, however. While the five hundred people saved by Hendron dined in the city named for him, they were guarded by a perpetual watch. Not since the first glimpse of a strange plane flying over the original camp, had vigilance been relaxed. In Hendron, day and night, men and women stood guard—at the gates, in the top of the tallest building, and underground in the central chambers.
During that noonday meal the guards on the north gate saw one of the Midianite planes moving toward the city.
It was not uncommon for an enemy plane to pass across their range of vision. This plane, however, was evidently headed for the city of Hendron. When that fact became assured, the alarm was sounded.
In the dining-hall there was an orderly stampede.
