The white rain came
first place, Lynne was still too severely bruised from her bout with
Goldberg’s poison to endure an embrace--and in the second, they were
too preoccupied with her discovery of the entity and its possible
consequences for even the lighter aspects of love-making.
_Think we’ll ever make it_, VINRAL_?_ Rolf projected wryly as the
runabout settled down on the fluorescent-lit landing field.
_You just wait till I get over this_, Lynne replied.
Then they were in the restored Rec Room, with its translucent walls
and recorder and amplification devices and other aids to telepathic
relay extension. Revere joined them there, as did Rana, for a long and
intensive conference. After all, along with Lynne and Rolf they had had
closer contact with the entity than any of the other telepaths in the
depot. It was Lynne who summed the problem up for them, speaking aloud
for the benefit of the recorder.
“What do we know about E-for-Entity and its properties?” she began
quietly. “In the first place, since we have discovered that E exists
and have made contact with it, Problem Outpost must be considered a
success. It was set up to establish contact with life-forms hitherto
unreached by mechanical means of communication. And certainly, we have
learned enough to feel certain E is a life-form.”
She paused to marshal her thoughts, then went on with, “Admitting that
E exists and is a form of life, what do we know of its properties? We
know that E exists on both Mars and Callisto and, by inference, on
other planets and satellites throughout the universe. We know that its
various units are in constant intercommunication with one another and
that while it has taken a mineral form, it is highly sentient both
mentally and physically.
“We know that it has a definite effect upon humans who attain even
remote contact with it through the mind. It has an inhibiting effect
upon the control centers of the human mind, causing the man or woman
in contact with it to lose self restraint and become in some ways
childish. If E effects non-telepaths in a similar way, we have no clear
record to prove it. But, in view of human behavior throughout history,
there is every reason to suspect that such effects can be ascribed to
it.
“We know that E is sensitive to mental suggestion, beamed its way,
especially when such suggestion is stepped up by electronic or atomic
machines. We know that its sensitivity increases in direct ratio with
its physical exposure to such impulses and stimuli. And we know that
while E, in effect, seems to be some sort of super-brain in mineral
form, it is highly sensitive to physical disturbance, such as attempts
to dig into its substance.”
She paused again, received encouraging thoughts from the others, and
continued. “We know further that when E is irritated beyond endurance,
it can and does strike back. To our knowledge, since the inauguration
of Problem Outpost, it has killed one telepath, rendered another
unconscious, and frustrated all efforts to mine its substance on
both Callisto and Mars. It is probable that this killing is neither
aggressive nor malicious--that it is rather like an elephant, stepping
on an annoying insect.”
She hesitated, said, “Well, from here on in, I think we’ll do better
off the record. We’re flying by the seat of our clouts.”
“_Crehut_, Lynne,” said her twin brother. “Now that we’ve uncovered
this interplanetary monster, what are we going to do about it? I know,
I’m receiving you--so you’re going to put it to work. But how do you
propose to go about harnessing something we know almost nothing about?”
Rolf said, “Don’t be a _czanworm_, Revere. What do we actually know
about electricity? Nothing. Yet men have harnessed and used electricity
for centuries. If they hadn’t, we’d still be Earthbound. In E, we have
the greatest potential power-source in history. Are we going to sit
around and call it out of bounds, merely because a few of us have been
killed, or may be killed, in the process?”
“Yes,” said Rana in her small voice. “But what are we going to do with
it? All my impressions were of mighty ideas and themes.”
“E is an entity of ideas,” said Rolf. “In a way it is like a
transmission cable--carrying thousands, perhaps millions, perhaps even
more messages both ways from itself to its fellows on other planets
and moons. It has the power to put its concepts to the test of reality
should such a trifling idea appeal to it--which it probably won’t. It
is on far too high a plane to care about concrete application.”
“And just how are we going to get it to care?” Revere Fenlay lit a
skinless gasper and blew a nervous-looking smoke ring.
Lynne said, “Revere, we know one thing--it is suggestible as well as
suggesting. Given the elements of an atmosphere to exist in, it lives.
We know it is suggestible because, when we irritate it sufficiently, it
strikes back. We can make it feel our thoughts and our muscles and our
machines, however trivially, however remotely.”
“Rather destructively, I fear,” said her twin looking doubtful.
“All right,” said Lynne. “So all we can arouse is destructive force but
it is a response and a predictable one. Once Ben Franklin proved he
could get a response from the lightning, however destructive. He was
able to create the lightning rod, And Faraday and the others who put
electricity to use were not far behind him.”
“All right,” said Revere. “I’m convinced. But how in _purt_ are we
going to get our new friend to say uncle when we want it to?”
Something clicked in Lynne’s trained coordinator’s brain. She said,
mentally scanning the notes and records they had been consulting during
the meeting, “Revere--Rolf--Rana--what is the one thing that is common
to each of E’s destructive retaliations when irritated?”
Rana looked helpless. Revere scowled at the floor, then shrugged and
gave up. Rolf studied the opaque ceiling of the Rec Room, then said
suddenly, “Maybe this is fresh out of your mind, _vinral_, but as I
get it there were two things--a flash of light and an impression of
enormous, sudden sound. Certainly I got those impressions when we were
up against E or his cousin on Callisto. Am I right?”
“How about it?” Lynne asked the other two. Rana, looking scared in
retrospect, nodded slowly, and Revere said, “It’s on the record.”
“Doesn’t that particular combination of phenomena remind you of
something? No, it wouldn’t since you’re all Martians. But as an
Earthwoman, it makes me think of just one thing--a thunderstorm.”
Revere looked incredulous, said, “But that’s impossible. There
isn’t enough atmosphere on Mars yet for any rain, much less for a
thunderstorm. And on Callisto, the air is frozen on the ground.”
“Just a moment,” said Rolf, his dark eyes gleaming. “I think I’m
beginning to understand what Mrs. Marcein is driving at.” Lynne reacted
with a shaft of pure delight to his use of her new name and title, then
forced herself to listen attentively as he went on with, “If E has
the elements of an atmosphere around him--I call it ‘him’ by courtesy
only--he is capable of transmuting them in any form he wishes for self
defence. But, Lynne, there has been no sign of rain with any of E’s
blasts against his irritators.”
“Let an Earth-girl speak on that,” said Lynne quietly. “If E can create
an atmosphere capable of thunder and lightning, however briefly, that
atmosphere must be capable of rain. Our problem is to keep E irritated
long enough so rain will fall. Keep him irritated directionally so that
he will harm no one and so localized that the area that needs moisture
will receive the fruits of E’s irritation.”
“_Crehut!_” said Revere. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“By using the same techniques used to harness electricity on Earth,”
said Lynne. “Relays of batteries using telepathic playbacks for
irritants. We can set up such a relay and shield it by placing it
underground. We can give it direction by placing it well upwind of
Woomera Station. And we can work it by remote video control.”
Rolf looked at her and frowned. “Why put it so near the Station?”
he asked. “Aren’t you running the risk of its being damaged if your
experiment proves successful, _vinral?_”
Lynne said patiently, “What does Mars need most, and where does Mars
need it most? The answers are rain and at Woomera Station. Since there
are no hills on Mars, there’s no danger of a flash flood. And if it
rains too much, we turn our gadget off. Simple?”
“No,” said Rolf with a slow smile. “It’s _farbishly_ complex. But I’ll
fly to New Samarkand tonight and see what can be done about getting
official permission. In the meantime, Lynne, you and Revere and Rana
start getting the machinery set up. You have the full resources of the
depot at your disposal.”
The next morning, Lynne, Revere, Rana and a volunteer crew of Nampura
Depot experts were busily installing the relay circuits Lynne had
devised in a block of non-metallic instant-concrete on the far side of
a gentle rise some twenty kilometers from E area, northwest of Woomera
Station.
Rolf had flashed her message that, though they had as yet no official
okay, he had won them sub-rosa permission from Agriculture boss Radchev
and other interested authorities to go ahead. Rolf had promised to be
there within the hour, when they set the switch that would prove their
mastery of E or the reverse.
Lynne had to fight hard to maintain a semblance of assurance as the
zero hour approached. She was checking the relays for the irritant
playback for the forty-ninth time when a government planetplane, with
its blue body and bright red disc markings, circled above them and came
in to a smooth landing. When Rolf appeared, followed by Radchev and
other high brass, she directed toward him a thought of relief.
Once again, before pressing the switch that would put the new E project
into work, she was forced to explain its theory. Weather, a tall human
skeleton named Krausemeier, was frankly worried. He said, “What if it
works and this artificial storm of yours wipes out the moisture in the
atmosphere?”
“It can’t, and you know it,” Lynne replied promptly and was aghast at
her own temerity. “There isn’t enough air around Mars right now to
create a drizzle--so how can a rainstorm lessen it? It’s got to _add_
to the moisture if it works at all.”
Shaking his head, Weather subsided. There were other arguments and
discussions and final check-ups against anything going wrong with the
relay. When, at 1131 Mars Time, Lynne pressed the button from the
control station, two kilometers away from the power plant, it was
almost an anti-climax.
For a long, nervous time, lasting some twenty minutes that seemed to
Lynne like as many hours, nothing happened. Then, inside herself, she
felt a stirring of angry forces, a gathering tension that rose and
rose until it seemed past the breaking point. She gripped Rolf’s hand
tightly, and he returned the grip. Unease was evident on the faces of
Revere and Rana and the other telepaths present from Nampura Station.
But the rest--the non-telepathic--merely looked bored or restless or
impatient or interested or hopeful as the case might be.
Lynne thought, _it has to work, it has to. I’ve made no mistake._
And Rolf returned her thought with, _don’t worry_, VINRAL, _it’s
working. I can feel something happening right now!_
A sudden, long-repressed _aaaaah_ rose from a hundred throats as a
blaze of light flashed on the horizon. It was followed by another, and
another, and another, until the sky resembled a vidar-image of one of
the ancient atomic-war battles that had so nearly destroyed humanity
two centuries earlier. The ground above the spot where the relays were
planted in their concrete casing, seemed to shimmer and leap.
And then came the thunderclaps, rolling like drumfire over the flat