Bronson leaped to the viewer controls and spun the dial to Kingston's official quarters. The viewer showed a technician just in the act of spinning the steering dials in a random whirl like a man locking a combination safe.
Kingston fell a-sprawl, still bound, against Maddox, who had come with him. Maddox removed the bonds and Kingston fingered the amulet on his wrist with pride. "That was quick," he said.
"Had to be," said Maddox. "I knew that the instant you disappeared from Bronson's laboratory he'd leap to the viewer to see your laboratory. So once you arrived, we both came here and Tony spun the dials so that Bronson can't follow us by reading the calibration."
"That isn't all," chuckled Kingston. "Now we know how to reach Bronson!"
Bronson turned from the controls unhappily. "How did he do that?" he asked plaintively.
Virginia shook her head. "Wrong culture or no," she said, "Earth Three seems to take all the tricks."
Bronson nodded wearily. He put head in hands and worried visibly—and was taken out of it when a bell tinkled on the wall. Bronson leaped to his feet with a shout.
"Maybe we're not licked yet," he said. "That was the automatic mass spectro-analyzer."
He left the room and returned quickly with a sheaf of papers.
"They call 'em space-resonant," he said with a wry chuckle, "but I call 'em symbiotic."
"Meaning?"
"Why, it seems as though we have a closed system of radioactivity here," he said.
"But the space-resonant elements are only faintly radioactive," objected Virginia.
"According to outside detectors," he said. "But this is an internally closed system. There are two basic elements and two isotopes of each, all operating in a closed system."
"How?"
He handed her a sheet of paper containing nuclear equations.
① 121A227+ 0n1—--> 121A280
② 121A280- 1e0—--> 122B280
③ 122B280- 0n1—--> 122B279
④ 122B279+ 1e0—--> 121A279
"Call 'em 'A' and 'B', with respective atomic number of one hundred and twenty-one and one hundred and twenty-two and respective atomic weights of two hundred and seventy-nine and two hundred and eighty," he explained. "Then Element A absorbs a neutron, becoming heavy Element A since its atomic weight is increased by one.
"The heavy Element A then emits a negative electron which raises the nuclear charge by one and the element becomes Element B. Element B then emits a neutron which makes it light Element B.
"Light Element B captures an electron lowering the nuclear charge and retransmuting the element back to normal Element A. The neutrons and electrons are passed back and forth within the mass and seldom escape, therefore the space-resonant elements are believed to be only mildly radioactive."
"Yes?"
Miles away and across the barrier in time Kingston and Maddox listened avidly.
"So we can guess what happened at Alamogordo," said Bronson exultantly.
"I don't see it," she said.
"Well, Element A is so avid an absorber of neutrons that a microscopic impurity will destroy the K-factor of a supercritical mass of plutonium or uranium," he said. "That would prevent the Alamogordo Bomb from exploding."
"Element B, on the other hand, emits a torrent of neutrons, enough to raise the K-factor to a terribly high degree, which caused such violence that the bomb was hot enough to start fission in the earth. A balance of the elements A and B cancels out and therefore we have the normal explosion experienced in Earth One."
"But how did it happen?"
"When the subcritical masses of uranium came together on Alamogordo Day, the fission started throughout the mass. Also present—we know now—is the capture of neutrons by unfissioned atoms which raise the element's mass, and the other fission products hitting this element raise its charge. Space-resonant elements resulted in those sub-microseconds of initial fission.
"So, in one section of the mass, an abundance of Element A was produced, which stopped the explosion. In another section, Element B was produced, which increased its violence. Now the energies produced within the fissioning bomb are high enough to cause a warp in the space-time continuum. This warp permitted one section to die out while the other increased almost without limit."
"I'm beginning to understand," nodded Virginia. "We then had three different levels of energy."
"And three widely-varied levels of entropy," added Bronson. "So widely varied that they could not exist in the same time-space plane. Thus the fission in time that produced the three time-planes. How widespread these areas of separation extend we may never know.
"All I can assume is that space-time is strained and will return as soon as the energy put into the separation is used up. Sort of like an upthrown stone," he mused. "It goes up until the energy put into throwing it is used up against the force of gravity.
"Then it comes down—and the three time-planes separate until the energy put into the separation was used up and then they begin to fall toward one another."
Kingston turned to Maddox. "That also explains why no one knew of this split for so long. And why it is getting easier and easier to cross the barrier. The three time-planes are approaching one another."
Maddox nodded. "And that means that we must see the other time-planes destroyed. If they come together and find interference—all will die!"
"Right," said Kingston. His hand fingered the button while his other hand turned the steering control. Maddox looked into the viewer. "Hurry!" he exploded. Kingston looked.
Ed Bronson was walking across the laboratory toward the transmission panel, saying "... and that brings one thing to mind, Ginger. If they grabbed Kingston they know where we are!"
He spun the controls quickly and pressed the button. At the same instant Kingston pressed his own button. The viewplate that showed Bronson and Virginia in Maddox's laboratory erupted in a holocaust of flame that blinded Kingston and Maddox.
"Did we?" asked Kingston, rubbing his eyes.
"We can't know," said Maddox. "But look. If we got them we can find out."
"How?"
"Collect your space-resonant elements on Earth One," said Maddox. "Then send another set across and use one of them to erupt Central City—right where Bronson's home is."
"What good will that do?" asked Kingston.
"We can watch it," explained Maddox. "And if it is returned to Earth Two, we'll know that Bronson is alive somewhere and watching."
Kingston nodded with a smile of appreciation.
The laboratory building was askew, its windows shattered and its outer surface scarred. It had been close. Perhaps the only thing that saved them was the fact that they were closer to the focal volume of the transmitter in the laboratory than Kingston was.
At any rate the unbelievably microscopic instant of the beginning of the atomic flame intended to destroy them utterly had been all that building caught. For Bronson had sent it skirling into time-space and it was on the way out as the glimmering of deadly flame started to come in.
But that brief touch of incandescent death had charred the woodwork of the outside of the building. It had cracked the glass and it had jarred its very structure.
The inhabitants were in bad shape. Bronson was sprawled on the floor. Virginia was crumpled over a desk. Both were unconscious. And, creeping deeper into their skin, was the ruddy color of bad burn.
Hours later they were dark with burn and still unconscious. They knew nothing.
They did not know that Kingston's men on Earth One were beginning to assemble the masses in Ed Bronson's collection of radioisotopic phosphor.
Then a bell tinkled gently. Bronson stirred and groaned. The bell tinkled once more. Bronson stirred again—painfully. Another tinkle—
Virginia awakened, opened her eyes vaguely and wondered what had happened.
The bell rang insistently. "Ed—Ed Bronson!" she shouted. "The detector!"
"Detector?" he asked dully.
"They're assembling the space-resonant elements on Earth One!"
The bell broke into an insistent clamoring. Ed picked himself from the floor and looked at the gear. The cascaded amplifiers, incapable of detecting the presence of subcritical masses on Earth One, had sufficient gain to trigger the alarm when Earth One's bits of space resonant elements were collected into critical mass.
Bronson spun the dials of the viewer.
There before him was the familiar laboratory of his own home and four men standing before his bench, upon which stood the crystalline mass.
"Now!" breathed Ed Bronson.
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!
Bronson tried desperately to fight off the thugs.
Bronson tried desperately to fight off the thugs.
Bronson tried desperately to fight off the thugs.
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.
Virginia clapped her hands together and there was a flash of flame.
Virginia clapped her hands together and there was a flash of flame.
Virginia clapped her hands together and there was a flash of flame.
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.