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He forced his body down into the opening. He saw the flame flickering over the surface of the sphere as the thing prepared to strike.
The sphere seemed to pulse briefly as he released his grasp on the rim of the opening and shoved himself downward into the hole.
He dropped several feet.
Above him a brilliant flash of fire lit the opening.
The sphere itself hovered above the hole.
CHAPTER III
PRIMARY OBJECTIVES
The sphere pulsed again. But this time no flaming whip sprang from its surface. There was a single flash. For an instant Taylor caught a glimpse of b.e.s.t.i.a.l eyes, looking angrily at him from the center of the flash. Then there was nothing. He was in the darkness of a tunnel. Even the charred embers of the wooden trap door above him seemed dimmed by a cloud of dust.
The sphere had simply exploded.
Taylor had no time to a.n.a.lyze the situation. His hands groped along the side of the tunnel, the one Norden had used to enter the plant on his spying expeditions. Taylor crawled slowly, feeling his way. It seemed eternity until at last he reached the end of the pa.s.sage and felt the trap door overhead.
A minute later he rejoined the others, huddled in darkness outside the gate.
"The searchlight went out," Masters explained. "Something wrong with the power, I guess."
"I know what it was," Taylor said gruffly. He turned to the disarmed sentry. "Has anyone come out of here since the factory stopped working?"
"n.o.body but him, sir," the soldier said, jerking his thumb at the sobbing man huddled against Norden. "He said his name was Orkins--Jim Orkins. He works in the warehouse. But you can't tell anything about the rest o' what he says. He just babbles, sir.
Something about livin' lightnin' and b.a.l.l.s of fire. He ain't drunk, sir, so he must be crazy."
"Help him get up," Taylor ordered. "Masters, you take charge of Norden. We're going back to the car."
"Excuse me, sir," the sentry said, hesitantly. "But that's against orders. I can't leave. I'm to guard this gate, sir."
"Your orders are canceled," the captain said.
"If I desert my post, it's court martial," the sentry explained.
"How do I know you aren't a spy? Captains don't go around making privates break the orders of the day. If you've got business in the plant, why was I told to keep _everyone_ out? Why didn't they tell me to pa.s.s Captain Taylor? I got a duty here and I'll do it if it kills me. So help me, sir. Sergeant o' the guard!"
The echo of the sentry's bellow rattled against the bleak factory buildings. A sphere bobbed up through the hole in the roof.
Orkins opened his mouth to scream, but Norden clapped his hand over the man's lips, choking him off.
"Quiet!" Taylor ordered hoa.r.s.ely. He addressed the sentry: "See that thing? It means death to you, to all of us if it finds us.
The sergeant of the guard, probably all of the other sentries are dead. Every workman in the plant is dead. Somehow we were missed.
The searchlight power went off before they found this post, I suppose. Now then, all of you follow Masters back to the car.
I'll bring up the rear."
"I won't leave," the sentry said, stubbornly.
Masters stepped forward and put his pistol against the soldier's back.
"You'll go," he said. "Maybe this ain't regulation, but neither are the spheres."
The stubby little secret service man pushed the soldier ahead of him. The sentry marched with his hands in the air.
Drawing his own pistol, Taylor turned to Norden.
"Help Orkins to the car," he said.
Norden drew himself up stiffly.
"Go ahead and shoot," he said. "It'll save the firing squad some trouble."
Taylor took one step forward. Norden faced him unflinchingly.
Taylor's hand shot out, caught Norden's coat and threw him after Masters.
"Don't leave me alone!" Orkins cried, crawling after Norden and clasping him about the legs. Norden kicked him aside.
"Keep moving!" Taylor ordered Norden, who had halted.
Norden did not move.
Taylor swung his fist. The blow connected and the officer caught the falling man, swung him over his shoulder, then turned to the cringing Orkins.
"If you don't want to be left here alone, follow us," he said.
Orkins suddenly regained his ability to use his muscles.
Masters, watching over his shoulder, chuckled. There was a faint wink of one eye visible in the moonlight.
"Kinda screwy, ain't he?" he said, jerking his head in Orkins'
direction.
"I don't know that I blame him, much," Taylor said. "Look at the plant."
Over the roof and the smokestacks floated the yellowish-red ball of fire. Another sphere was emerging from the hole in the roof.
"What are they? A new kind of bomb?" Masters asked.
"Norden's bomb never had a chance. Compared with what actually happened in there, a bomb would have been a picnic. There's not a living person left in the whole place."
"Not a--hold on there, Cap! Do you know how many were working?"
"They're all dead," Taylor said. Briefly he outlined what he had seen in the plant.
"Norden, the blankety-blank!" Masters swore. "Shooting's too good for him."