Astounding Stories, May, 1931 Part 44

When I awoke again I was lying in a clean-sheeted hospital bed. Jim was sitting at the side, staring at me with gloomy eyes.

"h.e.l.lo, Jim," I gasped weakly. "How did I get here?"

It was touching to see the instantaneous delight on his weathered countenance.

"So you came to at last, you old son-of-a-gun! Thought you were cas.h.i.+ng in on us for a while. How did you get here? That's just what I want to know. How in h.e.l.l _did_ you get here?"

I was still pretty weak. "You pulled me out. What happened?"

"We're still trying to puzzle it out. Wouldn't be surprised if you had a hand in it, you blighter. We were watching that d.a.m.ned cloud, worrying ourselves to death. What with the _New York_ going out like a light, and not hearing anything from you, we were pretty low.

"Then, suddenly, there was a tremendous detonation. The whole cloud ma.s.s collapsed like a p.r.i.c.ked bubble, and a bottomless pit yawned underneath the ocean--and, next thing we knew, our raft was yanked from under our feet, plunging and bucking in a swirl of waters.

"I just had time to grab hold of a stanchion, when we were sucked down into a whirlpool such as I never hope to see again. Round and round we spun, the tumbling waters mountain high above us. I was buried most of the time in cras.h.i.+ng billows; my arms were almost pulled out of their sockets.

"I never expected to see daylight again," Jim went on. "My hold was being broken when at last we were spewed out somehow onto a sea that looked as if a thousand hurricanes were blowing down.

"I managed to get my men together--what was left of them. There were pitifully few. Later, I heard that our losses were enormous. Over seventy-five per cent of our rafts on a 50-mile front were lost, and the enemies' were almost totally wiped out.

"When the mile-high seas had toned down a bit, we saw a huge concrete ball tossing about like a cork. Couldn't make out what the devil it was. Then someone noticed a door. We got that open, but there was a steel one inside. We had to slice it with an oxy-hydrogen flame.

Inside, snug as a bug in a rug, were you.

"Now come on, tell me how in blazes you got in there. If you don't spill it quick, I'll bust."

I sat up in my excitement. "Don't you see, they were afraid the ray might fail. They had those concrete b.a.l.l.s stuck all around so that the officers at least could escape, if it did. Their best technical men must have been running the control room. They made sure to have that specially strong. And the wave caused by the water pouring into the hole swept me right over here, just where I started from."

Jim had both hands on my shoulders, was pus.h.i.+ng me down. "Whoa, baby, whoa. That's just as clear as a darkness-rayed area. Count up to ten, and start all over again."

"'Ten-_shun_!"

The general himself strode into the room. And then I _had_ to tell my story straight.

A BEE'S BREADTH

The breath of a bee, important because of its indication of the health of the insect in winter and of the efficiency of the sweet-producing hive in summer, was recently measured by Prof. G. H. Vansell of the University of California. To do this he conducted the air coming from the hive trough a tube into bulbs containing absorbent chemicals.

Allowing for the natural carbon dioxide and water of the outside air, he weighed these bulbs, getting an a.n.a.lysis of the breath of the hive by the amount of water vapor and carbon dioxide the chemicals in the bulbs had picked up.

He found that in winter when the bees were inactive the average hourly water loss from the entire hive was thirty six millionths of an ounce.

In summer when the insects were hard at work making honey and gathering nectar the water loss was twenty five times as great. The carbon dioxide output, however, did not even double in summer.

_A Meeting Place for Readers of_ Astounding Stories

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Readers' Corner]

_And That's That_

Dear Editor:

May I have just a little room in "The Readers' Corner" to answer Mr. Meek's argument and defend myself from the charge of hasty reading? You will remember that I did not write my letter immediately after the publication of the first Heaviside Layer story, but waited until the appearance of the second, a "cooling-off" period of three months. In that time I re-read the story and considered it at length. I don't call that hasty reading. Besides, the flaw in the story is so obvious that even a "hasty" reading should suffice to find it.

I can't argue about the matter of meteors because Mr. Meek has not given any figures concerning the density or viscosity of his medium. But I can say that to my way of thinking any astronomer could detect the effect of such friction on the action of meteors. They should certainly be consumed much more rapidly than if they merely struck thin air.

That, however, is a minor point and I wouldn't even mind conceding it to Mr. Meek. The point I now wish to make is much more important and in my mind establishes the falsity of Mr. Meek's premises. In the July issue of Astounding Stories, page seven, paragraph four, sentences fourteen and fifteen, he states that the Heaviside Layer is composed of a liquid of high viscosity. By definition a liquid is more dense than a gas. Therefore the Heaviside Layer, according to Mr. Meek, is denser than the atmosphere of the earth since the former is a liquid and the latter is a gas. The increased refraction of light as it entered our atmosphere would then be noticeable. Astronomers can even now detect refraction due to the air. The sun remains visible for some time after it has actually descended below the horizon, due to refraction. If there was a denser substance than air surrounding the earth the refraction would be much greater.

Finally, how could the atmosphere support a denser substance like the Heaviside Layer? I'd sure make for cover if I really believed that such a menace existed right over my head.

Sorry to take up your s.p.a.ce so much by an argument, but your comments on my letter really called for a defense. Hope you can find room for this.--Philip Waite, 3400 Wayne Ave, New Your, N. Y.

Dear Editor:

Since Mr. Waite has so generously admitted the validity of my answer to his criticism as regards meteors, I can do no less than admit that he scored one against me in his second argument. I used the word liquid. It was careless diction.

Had I used the phrase "composed of a SUBSTANCE of high viscosity, of low specific gravity and with a coefficient of refraction identical with that of air," there would have been no argument. I am sure that Mr. Waite will admit after reflection that such a substance could be held in position, if its specific gravity were low enough, by a combination of gravity and centrifugal force, somewhat in the same manner as the ring of Saturn is held in place. Of course, any idea that the layer rested on the air and was supported in place by it, would be untenable. As I said in my previous letter, I don't believe such a layer exists. If it does, I hope that no one proves it before I get some characters off on a s.p.a.ce flyer for an interplanetary adventure or two.--S. P. Meek, Capt., Ord. Dept., U. S. A.

_Right from the Shoulder_

Dear Editor:

I know for a fact that Astounding Stories is the best Science Fiction magazine on the stands. I have read it every issue except the first three, and have not yet found a bad story. The characters in other Science Fiction magazines seem like machines, but Astounding Stories' characters seem like intimate friends. Why do ---- [censored] like some write in and start bellyaching about the cover, pages, the size, the edges and many other things that no one but ---- [censored] would notice? If they know so much why don't they start a magazine and put all other publications out of business? If they liked the stories they would not care if the color of the cover was black or red, white and blue. I get so interested in the stories that the edges of the paper do not amount to anything; and people that bellyache about such minor things prove that they do not care for the stories, and furthermore they prove that they are ---- [censored] and ---- [censored] ready for the b.o.o.by hatch.

There is only one thing wrong with the perfect magazine: it does not come out twice a month. I have never known a bunch of Editors that have the intelligence of the Staff of Astounding Stories [uncensored--Ed.]. They have never published a single story that any intelligent Reader could kick about.

About reprints: whether the Editors think that they should publish some or not, it is all the same to me, as they know what they are doing. I should like very much to see some stories by Burroughs, though.

If I were to name your best authors, I would have to name every one that ever wrote a story for your wonderful magazine.--H. N. Sager, R. F. D. 6, Box 419, Bessemer, Ala.

_Disposing of Old Stories_

Dear Editor:

I have observed that numerous readers request reprints. I have a collection that goes back to 1900! Since I have no more use for them, I have decided to dispense with them.

Here is an infinitesimal list:

A. Merritt: "Thru the Dragon Gla.s.s," "The Moon Pool," "The Metal Monster" and "The s.h.i.+p of Ishtar."

Homer Eon Flint: "Out of the Moon," "The Planeteer," "The King of Conserve Island," "The Blind Spot" and "Flint and Hall."

Jules Black: "Beyond the Earth Atom" and "Marooned in s.p.a.ce."