Fantastic Stories Presents the Imagination (Stories of Science and Fantasy) Super Pack. Edmond Hamilton. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Edmond Hamilton
Издательство: Ingram
Серия: Positronic Super Pack Series
Жанр произведения: Ужасы и Мистика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781515410898
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anxious to get back on the job—trying to stop the invasion; although now, in spite of her mutant powers, now that the course of action was outlined, she seemed more in the way than of assistance.

      Now why, she thought, would it suddenly seem so important that I should seal off Walt’s mind? Yesterday, when he was so tired, I almost gave him back his mutant powers. I do trust him, don’t I? Of course. After all the help he’s given us, I know—there’s not the tiniest doubt, really—that he’s completely on our side.

      Now why—?

      Seal . . . off . . . mind . . . .

      She tried to ignore the thought. It isn’t that important, she argued with herself.

      Seal . . . off . . . mind . . . .

      Whoa! she thought.

      Seal off minds!

      Minds.

      Harmonics . . . powerful signal . . . transmit . . . blanket . . . .

      Pulling her blouse hastily over her head, she realized that it might be remotely possible!

      As she reached for the phone, she tried to see the mathematics involved. I’ll have to consult Dr. Norvel, she thought.

      She dialed. Her hand began to tremble with eagerness.

      The phone rang in her ear. Once. Twice. Three times.

      “Hello?”

      “Hello, this is Julia. Let me speak to the general. Hurry!”

      Whoever was on the other end of the line moved quickly. Julia could hear a phone ringing in the receiver.

      “Yes?” the general said, sleepy-voiced.

      “Julia, General.”

      “Yes?”

      “I think I’ve got something for you.”

      “Yes?”

      “If we can transmit a powerful enough signal, we might be able to create harmonics that would interfere throughout the possible displacement area. Interfere with the frequency that closes our bridges, I mean. It’s the same principle as concussion affecting the displacement area.”

      “Wait a minute. Okay, go on. I’m recording this, now.”

      “If our television and radio transmitters will handle the signal, we can blanket the whole planet with interference. Any mutant that hits it will automatically be deprived of his mutant powers.”

      “What . . . ?”

      “Look. We can make the whole first wave human normals. The Army can round them up and keep them unconscious while we adjust our interference to meet the second wave.”

      “I see, vaguely. What do you need?”

      “Dr. Norvel.”

      “I’ll phone her.”

      “A laboratory. An electronics laboratory.”

      “I’ll get it.”

      “Enough time.”

      “All I can do on that score is hurry as fast as I can. As soon as I get your laboratory, I’ll send a car around for you.”

      “Right.”

      “I’ve got calls to make, then. You give me the details later.”

      “Goodby.”

      Julia hung up.

      *

      She felt elation. She went to the window and breathed deeply. The air was exciting.

      Two hours later, she was in a staff car speeding toward an experimental laboratory on the outskirts of town.

      She was hustled inside the building by a sergeant and a colonel; gray, cloudy dawn hovered in the east.

      Dr. Norvel was already waiting.

      “Let’s go to work,” the doctor said.

      “Right.”

      “What do you propose? The general said something about interfering with the frequency controlling your mind. How? We can’t even detect it.”

      “We don’t need to. We generate a signal, vary the frequency until I lose my mutant powers—and that’s it! We generate as strong a signal as we can. Then we have every transmitter in the country put on a direct line to us. When the radar spots the first saucer, we let go with every kilowatt of power we’ve got.”

      “Good, good, good,” Dr. Norvel said excitedly. “See if you can find some good coffee, you there, with the bird on your shoulder.”

      The colonel said, “Yes, ma’m.”

      “I’ll try to get some electronics men in to help,” Dr. Norvel said. “We may need plenty of help.”

      “Is there a technical library around?” Julia asked. “I better read up on electronics.”

      “There’s one in there,” the puzzled night watchman said.

      “I want you to get me somebody from the Army that can get me equipment, and fast,” Dr. Norvel told the sergeant. He was standing helplessly by the door.

      “I—”

      “Hurry up, damn it!”

      The sergeant shrugged in resignation. “All right, but they won’t like it. I’m the one you should have sent for the coffee.”

      After, the sergeant was gone, the colonel came back.

      By noon, the laboratory was alive with activity.

      By six o’clock, the signal generator was beginning to grow.

      Julia supervised the crew laying cable. The cable would be connected to the nearest radio transmitter.

      “Your transmitter will handle our signal?” Julia asked.

      “You give it to us, and we’ll tell you.”

      A general interrupted Julia. “I’m from General Tibbets. How’s it going?”

      “Can’t tell.”

      “We’re trying to scatter paratroops—detachments of them. All over. How long do we have?”

      “It’s up to them,” Julia said. “I don’t know when we’ll be finished here.”

      “Our men should be stationed by morning.”

      “I hope we’re through that early.”

      “You disarm these damned mutants, and we’ll capture them.”

      “Hope to.”

      In the yard, a crew was unloading a new power supply.

      “Knock a hole in the east wall and take it inside!” a harried officer bawled hoarsely.

      “Some ass of a newspaper man did a report on unusual activity in the Pentagon and around Washington,” Dr. Norvel said. “He hinted it had something to do with the flying saucer reports of twenty some years ago.”

      “How in hell did it leak?”

      “ . . . the Pentagon’s issuing a denial.”

      *

      By midnight, Julia was superintending the construction of a second signal generator. Work on the first one was temporarily stalled; the technicians were waiting for a special transformer.

      Dr. Norvel was waving an inked-in schematic diagram before the face of a gray haired man in an apron. “No, no, no,” she said. “It’s got to be this way to set up the right harmonics.”

      A