Section 2 of 22 - Table of Contents
BOOK ONE
PIRACY PREFERRED
PROLOGUE
High in the deep blue of the afternoon sky rode a tiny speck of
glistening metal, scarcely visible in the glare of the sun. The workers
on the machines below glanced up for a moment, then back to their work,
though little enough it was on these automatic cultivators. Even this
minor diversion was of interest in the dull monotony of green. These
endless fields of castor bean plants had to be cultivated, but with the
great machines that did the work it required but a few dozen men to
cultivate an entire county.
The passengers in the huge plane high above them gave little thought to
what passed below, engrossed with their papers or books, or engaged in
casual conversation. This monotonous trip was boring to most of them. It
seemed a waste of time to spend six good hours in a short 3,500 mile
trip. There was nothing to do, nothing to see, except a slowly passing
landscape ten miles below. No details could be distinguished, and the
steady low throb of the engines, the whirring of the giant propellers,
the muffled roar of the air, as it rushed by, combined to form a
soothing lullaby of power. It was all right for pleasure seekers and
vacationists, but business men were in a hurry.
The pilot of the machine glanced briefly at the instruments, wondered
vaguely why he had to be there at all, then turned, and leaving the
pilot room in charge of his assistant, went down to talk with the chief
engineer.
His vacation began the first of July, and as this was the last of June,
he wondered what would have happened if he had done as he had been half
inclined to do--quit the trip and let the assistant take her through. It
would have been simple--just a few levers to manipulate, a few controls
to set, and the instruments would have taken her up to ten or eleven
miles, swung her into the great westward air current, and leveled her
off at five hundred and sixty or so an hour toward 'Frisco'. They would
hold her on the radio beam better than he ever could. Even the landing
would have been easy. The assistant had never landed a big plane, but he
knew the routine, and the instruments would have done the work. Even if
he hadn't been there, ten minutes after they had reached destination, it
would land automatically--if an emergency pilot didn't come up by that
time in answer to an automatic signal.
He yawned and sauntered down the hall. He yawned again, wondering what
made him so sleepy.
He slumped limply to the floor and lay there breathing ever more and
more slowly.
* * * * *
The officials of the San Francisco terminus of The Transcontinental
Airways company were worried. The great Transcontinental express had
come to the field, following the radio beam, and now it was circling the
field with its instruments set on the automatic signal for an emergency
pilot. They were worried and with good reason, for this flight carried
over 900,000 dollars worth of negotiable securities. But what could
attack one of those giant ships? It would take a small army to overcome
the crew of seventy and the three thousand passengers!
The great ship was landing gently now, brought in by the emergency
pilot. The small field car sped over to the plane rapidly. Already the
elevator was in place beside it, and as the officials in the car drew up
under the giant wing, they could see the tiny figure of the emergency
pilot beckoning to them. Swiftly the portable elevator carried them up
to the fourth level of the ship.
What a sight met their eyes as they entered the main salon! At first
glance it appeared that all the passengers lay sleeping in their chairs.
On closer examination it became evident that they were not breathing!
The ear could detect no heartbeat. The members of the crew lay at their
posts, as inert as the passengers! The assistant pilot sprawled on the
floor beside the instrument panel--apparently he had been watching the
record of the flight. There was no one conscious--or apparently
living--on board!
"Dead! Over three thousand people!" The field manager's voice was
hoarse, incredulous. "It's impossible--how could they have done it? Gas,
maybe, drawn in through the ventilator pumps and circulated through the
ship. But I can't conceive of any man being willing to kill three
thousand people for a mere million! Did you call a doctor by radio,
Pilot?"
"Yes, sir. He is on his way. There's his car now."
"Of course they will have opened the safe--but let's check anyway. I can
only think some madman has done this--no sane man would be willing to
take so many lives for so little." Wearily the men descended the stairs
to the mail room in the hold.
The door was closed, but the lock of the door was gone, the
magnesium-beryllium alloy burned away. They opened the door and entered.
The room seemed in perfect order. The guard lay motionless in the steel
guard chamber at one side; the thick, bullet-proof glass made his
outlines a little blurred, and the color of his face was green--but they
knew there too must be that same pallor they had seen on the other
faces. The delicate instruments had brought in the great ship perfectly,
but it was freighted with a cargo of dead!
They entered the room and proceeded to the safe, but it was opened as
they had expected. The six-inch tungsto-iridium wall had been melted
through. Even this unbelievable fact no longer surprised them. They
only glanced at the metal, still too hot to touch, and looked about the
room. The bonds had been taken. But now they noticed that over the
mail-clerk's desk there had been fastened a small envelope. On it was
printed:
To the Officials of the San Francisco Airport
Inside was a short message, printed in the same sharp, black letters:
Gentlemen:
This plane should land safely. If it doesn't, it is your
fault, not mine, for the instruments that it carries
should permit it. The passengers are NOT dead! They have
been put in a temporary state of suspended animation.
Any doctor can readily revive them by the injection of
seven c.c. of decinormal potassium iodide solution for
every 100 pounds of weight. Do NOT use higher
concentrations. Lower concentrations will act more
slowly.
You will find that any tendency toward leprosy or cancer
will have been destroyed. It will kill any existing
cancer, and cure it in about one week. I have not
experimented with leprosy beyond knowing that it is
cured very quickly.
This is an outside job. Don't annoy the passengers with
questions.
The gas used cannot be stopped by any material I know
of. You can try it with any mask--but don't use the
C-32L. It will react with the gas to kill. I would
advise that you try it on an animal to convince
yourselves.
I have left stock in my new company to replace the bonds
I have taken.
Piracy Incorporated is incorporated under my own laws.
The Pirate
On the desk beneath the note was a small package which contained a
number of stock certificates. They totalled $900,000 face value of
"Piracy Preferred", the preferred stock of a corporation, "Piracy, Inc."
"Piracy! Pirates in the air!" The field manager forced an unnatural
laugh. "In 2126 we have pirates attacking our air lines. _Piracy
Preferred!_ I think I'd prefer the bonds myself. But thank God he did
not kill all those people. Doctor, you look worried! Cheer up. If what
this pirate says is true, we can resuscitate them, and they'll be better
off for the experience!"
The doctor shook his head. "I've been examining your passengers. I'm
afraid that you'll never be able to bring these people back to life
again, sir. I can't detect any heart action even with the amplifier.
Ordinary heart action sounds like a cataract through this instrument. I
can see nothing wrong with the blood; it has not coagulated as I
expected, nor is there any pronounced hydrolysis as yet. But I'm afraid
I'll have to write out the death warrants for all these men and women.
One of the people on that ship was coming to see me. That's how I
happened to be on the field. For her, at least, it may be better so. The
poor woman was suffering from an incurable cancer."
"In this case, Doctor, I hope and believe you are wrong. Read this
note!"
* * * * *
It was two hours before the work of reviving the passengers could be
started. Despite all the laws of physics, their body temperature had
remained constant after it had reached seventy-four, showing that some
form of very slow metabolism was going on. One by one they were put into
large electric blankets, and each was given the correct dose of the
salt. The men waited anxiously for results--and within ten minutes of
the injection the first had regained consciousness!
The work went forward steadily and successfully. Every one of the
passengers and crew was revived. And the Pirate had spoken the truth.
The woman who had been suffering from cancer was free from pain for the
first time in many months. Later, careful examination proved she was
cured!
The papers were issuing extras within five minutes of the time the great
plane had landed, and the radio news service was broadcasting the first
"break" in a particularly dead month. During all of June the news had
been dead, and now July had begun with a bang!
With time to think and investigate, the airport officials went over the
ship with the Air Guard, using a fine-tooth comb. It was soon evident
that the job had been done from the outside, as the Pirate had said. The
emergency pilot testified that when he entered the ship, he found a
small piece of wire securing the air lock from the outside. This had
certainly been put on while the ship was in flight, and that meant that
whoever had done this, had landed on the great ship with a small plane,
had somehow anchored it, then had entered the plane through the air lock
at the ten mile height. He had probably flown across the path of the
plane, leaving a trail of gas in its way to be drawn in through the
ventilator pumps. It had been washed out by the incoming good air later,
for the emergency pilot had not been affected.
Now the investigation led them to the mail-room. Despite the refractory
nature of the metal, the door had been opened by melting or burning out
the lock. And an opening had been burned into the safe itself! Opened by
melting it through!
A bond shipment was due the next day, and the airline officials planned
to be on the watch for it. It would get through safely, they were sure,
for men were put on board in steel chambers hermetically welded behind
them, with oxygen tanks and automatic apparatus sealed within to supply
them with clean air. The front of the tanks were equipped with
bullet-proof glass windows, and by means of electrically operated
controls the men inside could fire machine guns. Thus they were
protected from the Pirate's gas and able to use their weapons.
The ship was accompanied by a patrol of Air Guardsmen. Yet, despite,
this, cancer cases were aboard with the hope of being gassed.
When the plane reached the neighborhood of San Francisco, there had been
no sign of an attack. The Pirate might well retire permanently on a
million, if he were alone, as the singular signature indicated; but it
seemed much more probable that he would attempt another attack in any
case. Well, that just meant watching all the planes from now on, a
tremendous job for the Air Guard to handle.
The leader of the patrol turned in an easy bank to descend the ten miles
to Earth, and his planes followed him. Then suddenly through the
communicator came an unmistakable sound. _The plane automatically
signaling for an emergency pilot!_ That could only mean that the plane
had been gassed under the very eyes of his men!
The bonds were gone and the passengers gassed, and incredibly, the men
in the steel tanks were as thoroughly gassed as the rest.
The note was brief, and as much to the point as was the absence of the
bonds.
To the Officials of the Airport:
Restore as usual. The men in the tanks are asleep
also--I said the gas would penetrate _any_ material. It
does. A mask obviously won't do any good. Don't try that
C-32L mask. I warn you it will be fatal. My gas reacts
to produce a virulent poison when in contact with the
chemicals in the C-32L.
The Pirate
Prev
Next
All
Printer Friendly Version | Send this page to a friend | Discuss this Book
Your email address is safe with us. View our Privacy policy.
 |
 |
|
|
Category: Plays Sections: 12 What's this? Table of Contents |
 FictionNon FictionShort StoriesPoetryPlaysPhilosophyReligionBiography |
FIND JOBS
