Triplanetary by E. E. Smith (good novels to read TXT) 📕
Description
Hundreds of millions of years ago, two near-omnipotent alien races encountered each other, beginning a conflict that will shape the history of the entire universe. The benevolent Arisians covertly influence humanity, hoping to create a people capable of one day defeating the vile Eddorians, who are waging their own campaign for the fate of civilization on Earth. This sets the stage for a clash between the Triplanetary League of the inner solar system, the enigmatic pirate-scientist Roger, and the Nevians, interlopers whose first appearance wreaks havoc among the other parties.
Triplanetary is the first of Edward E. “Doc” Smith’s Lensman series, an early and influential entry in the space opera genre. Originally serialized in Amazing Stories in 1934 as a stand-alone story, Triplanetary was collected in book form in 1948 with six new chapters and numerous additions, changing the story to be a prequel to the rest of the Lensman series.
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- Author: E. E. Smith
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“Yes, the watch feels that way, now.”
“Fine! Not a sign of interference over here, either. I can’t find a trace of ultra-wave—anything below ether-level, you know—anywhere in the whole place. He’s got so much stuff that we’ve never heard of that I supposed of course he’d have ultra-wave, too; but if he hasn’t, that gives us the edge. Well, Bradley and I’ve got a lot of work to do. … Wait a minute, I just had a thought. I’ll be back in about a second.”
There was a brief pause, then the soundless, but clear voice went on:
“Good hunting! That woman that gave you the blue willies isn’t alive—she’s full of the prettiest machinery and circuits you ever saw!”
“Oh, Conway!” and the girl’s voice broke in an engulfing wave of thanksgiving and relief. “It was so unutterably horrible, thinking of what must have happened to her and to others like her!”
“He’s running a colossal bluff, I think. He’s good, all right, but he lacks quite a lot of being omnipotent. But don’t get too cocky, either. Plenty has happened to plenty of women here, and men too—and plenty may happen to us unless we put out a few jets. Keep a stiff upper lip, and if you want us, yell. ’Bye!”
The silent voice ceased, the watch upon Clio’s wrist again became an unobtrusive timepiece, and Costigan, in his solitary cell far below her tower room, turned his peculiarly goggled eyes toward other scenes. His hands, apparently idle in his pockets, manipulated tiny controls; his keen, highly-trained eyes studied every concealed detail of mechanism of the great globe. Finally, he took off the goggles and spoke in a low voice to Bradley, confined in another windowless room across the hall.
“I think I’ve got dope enough, Captain. I’ve found out where he put our armor and guns, and I’ve located all the main leads, controls, and generators. There are no ether-walls around us here, but every door is shielded, and there are guards outside our doors—one to each of us. They’re robots, not men. That makes it harder, since they’re undoubtedly connected direct to Roger’s desk and will give an alarm at the first hint of abnormal performance. We can’t do a thing until he leaves his desk. See that black panel, a little below the cord-switch to the right of your door? That’s the conduit cover. When I give you the word, tear that off and you’ll see one red wire in the cable. It feeds the shield-generator of your door. Break that wire and join me out in the hall. Sorry I had only one of these ultra-wave spies, but once we’re together it won’t be so bad. Here’s what I thought we could do,” and he went over in detail the only course of action which his survey had shown to be possible.
“There, he’s left his desk!” Costigan exclaimed after the conversation had continued for almost an hour. “Now as soon as we find out where he’s going, we’ll start something … he’s going to see Clio, the swine! This changes things, Bradley!” His hard voice was a curse.
“Somewhat!” blazed the captain. “I know how you two have been getting on all during the cruise. I’m with you, but what can we do?”
“We’ll do something,” Costigan declared grimly. “If he makes a pass at her I’ll get him if I have to blow this whole sphere out of space, with us in it!”
“Don’t do that, Conway,” Clio’s low voice, trembling but determined, was felt by both men. “If there’s a chance for you to get away and do anything about fighting him, don’t mind me. Maybe he only wants to talk about the ransom, anyway.”
“He wouldn’t talk ransom to you—he’s going to talk something else entirely,” Costigan gritted, then his voice changed suddenly. “But say, maybe it’s just as well this way. They didn’t find our specials when they searched us, you know, and we’re going to do plenty of damage right soon now. Roger probably isn’t a fast worker—more the cat-and-mouse type, I’d say—and after we get started he’ll have something on his mind besides you. Think you can stall him off and keep him interested for about fifteen minutes?”
“I’m sure I can—I’ll do anything to help us, or you, get away from this horrible. …” Her voice ceased as Roger broke the ether-wall of her apartment and walked toward the divan, upon which she crouched in wide-eyed, helpless, trembling terror.
“Get ready, Bradley!” Costigan directed tersely. “He left Clio’s ether-wall off, so that any abnormal signals would be relayed to him from his desk—he knows that there’s no chance of anyone disturbing him in that room. But I’m holding a beam on that switch, so that the wall is on, full strength. No matter what we do now, he can’t get a warning. I’ll have to hold the beam exactly in place, though, so you’ll have to do the dirty work. Tear out that red wire and kill those two guards. You know how to kill a robot, don’t you?”
“Yes—break his eye-lenses and his eardrums and he’ll stop whatever he’s doing and send out distress calls. … Got ’em both. Now what?”
“Open my door—the shield switch is to the right.”
Costigan’s door flew open and the Triplanetary captain leaped into the room.
“Now for our armor!” he cried.
“Not yet!” snapped Costigan. He was standing rigid, goggled eyes staring immovably at a spot on the ceiling. “I can’t move a millimeter until you’ve closed Clio’s ether-wall switch. If I take this ray off it for a second we’re sunk. Five floors up, straight ahead down a corridor—fourth door on right. When you’re at the switch you’ll feel my ray on your watch. Snap it up!”
“Right,” and the captain leaped away at a pace to be equalled by few men of half his years.
Soon
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