Air Wonder Stories, August 1929 — page 33: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

BEYOND GRAVITY Commander Wilkins dismissed the orderly and tore open the envelope containing the radiogram from the Annihilator. After a second he handed it to me and T read it aloud to Joan. “Annihilator Will Pass Over San Diego Pocket, Longitude 9dc, Latitude 30° at-Exactly 4:59, World. Time. Everything Is Ready to Accept Your Deliveries of Nitro-Radium. Eight Members of the Crew and Staff Are Dead From Lack of Oxygen. If We Fail to Pick Up Your Deliveries We Cannot Hope To Last More Than Six Hours Or One More Revolution Around the Globe. Please Stand By For Results. We Are Coming!” Joan stifled a cry of alarm. I handed the radiogram back to Commander Wilkins. Without a word he strode swiftly past us. We followed him to the anti- aircraft batteries. Like a long line of towering steel shafts the guns pointed to the heavens in a fan shape, in readiness to hurl barrages of projectiles into the path of the oncoming Annihilator. Commander Wilkins mounted a steel platform and looked out over the towering batteries. I glanced at my chronometer and looked overhead. The sky above the airdrome was entirely void of any aircraft. High _up, in the higher levels, a great white cloud floated lazily across the sky. Over the city of San Diego itself, their heliocopters maintaining perfect balance, rested thousands of aircraft, their occupants intent tipon watching developments in the rescue work of the great Annihilator. Joan clung to my arm, tightly, as we. stood some distance away from the batteries, UDDENLY the batteries roared as one with such terrific explosion that the earth rocked and trembled. The concussion lifted us from the ground and set me down with a thump, Joan sprawled-across my legs. I shot a rapid glance skyward. The heavens were depthless, But a gradually vanishing series of whining notes told me that the first discharge of fuel for the Annihilator was on its way. I pulled Joan down as she attempted to rise, and clapped my. hands over my ears. Again and again the batteries roared at intervals of seconds. Joan hid her face against my breast, sobbing. I looked over toward the platform. Commander Wilkins was standing close to a waist- high railing, clutching it tightly. Other men sat on the floor of the platform. He alone was standing. Hope Gone! VENTUALLY the firing ceased and I helped Joan to her feet. Commander Wilkins, followed by a knot of gesturing officers and civilians, was walking toward us, His face was grave as he came up and saluted politely. “T should have warned you and your daughter, Mr. Holdon,” he said, “that the concussion would knock you down. I am happy to see that you were not injured.” “That’s all right, Commander,” I said. “I couldn’t have kept Joan away.” “Do you think you will have any success, Com- mander?” Joan asked, apprehensively. “T can only hope for the best, Miss Holdon,” he said, Joan smiled with rising spirits, “We are going to watch the Annihilator on the television screen, would you like to join us?” Com- mander Wilkins continued. Joan nodded. He turned to the knot of waiting men standing a short distance away. “Gentlemen,” he said, “This is Miss Holdon and her father, former Congressman Holdon, They will watch the Asnihwvator with us.” With that informal introduction we accompanied the group to the Radio-Television Headquarters. As we strode toward the building I felt-a hand touch my shoulder. I turned my head-and observed: the serious, set features of Professor Stilsen, Director of Astro- nomical Research of the Washington University. “Why. Professor Stilsen,” I greeted him, “I didn’t recognize you in the group! What are you doing here?” i “Have been vacationing up.at La Jolla, Mr. Holdon,” he said. “The government tadioed me early this morn- ing to come down here and help out as much as I could in gravitational and atmospheric details. I’m glad to see you, Mr. Holdon!”" “Thank you, Professor,” I said. “It was nice of you to help out, Of course you know that Senator Allison’s son is on board the Annihilator. He is a very close friend of the family. We flew over from Denver this morning to watch the.rescue work. What do you think about it?” “Well, to tell the truth, I’m a. little doubtful,” he teplied, shaking his head seriously. “It is and has been my opinion that when the projectiles reach the same atmospheric stream that holds the Annihilator, they will either continue on through it or be swept along the same course as the ship, There is a slight chance that the Annihilator will pick up one of the shells, providing it passes over the pocket at precisely the same second the projectile reached the air-stream. On the other hand, the projectiles might strike the ship and damage it.” Hardly three minutes had passed after the firing of the last salvo from the batteries, before we arrived at the Radio-Television Headquarters. Commander Wilkins ushered us into the rather large. room con- taining the powerful radio-telepix apparatus. The room beyond the reception and broadcast panels was some- thing like a small theatre with a fairly large screen on the wall in front of several rows of chairs. We sat down, Joan on one sideXS{ me-and Professor Stilsen. on the other, Around us sat the remainder of the group, silent and tense. Commander Wilkins remained near the panels and its operators. During the few seconds that followed, the silence in the room was oppressive. I watched Joan. She sat in stony immobility, her eyes boring into the blank, dead‘ screen. Professor Stilsen likewise stared at the screen, his lips twitching nervously and beads of per- spiration standing out on his brow. Presently the reproductive coils somewhere near the panels in back-of us sputtered. -A dim outline. ap- peared on the screen before us. Joan grasped my arm tensely. Gradually the glistening body of the Annihilator loomed and quickly passed out of sight. The operators twisted the television dial-controls and slowly the leviathan moved back into the oblong square in front of us. Professor Stilsen let loose a groan and pointed with shaking hand along the tail of the huge ship. The aileron laterals and elevating aero- foils had been torn from their sockets and were trail- ing along behind the craft at a distance that, on the screen, appeared to be several feet! “My God!” the Professor shouted almost in a frenzy. “They’re-done! The controlling aileron and Peet oe — —— vee =comicbooks:com