and forth traveled the destroying rays, ploughing parallel furrows
from hillside to hillside. We gasped in dismay, Wilma and I, as time
after time we saw it plough through sections where we knew camps or
plants were located.
"This is awful," she moaned, a terrified question in her eyes. "How
could they know the location so exactly, Tony? Did you see? They were
never in doubt. They stalled at a predetermined spot--and--and it was
exactly the right spot."
We did not talk of what might happen if the rays were turned in our
direction. We both knew. We would simply disintegrate in a split second
into mere scattered electronic vibrations. Strangely enough, it was this
self-reliant girl of the 25th Century, who clung to me, a relatively
primitive man of the 20th, less familiar than she with the thought of
this terrifying possibility, for moral support.
We knew that many of our companions must have been whisked into absolute
non-existence before our eyes in these few moments. The whole thing
paralyzed us into mental and physical immobility for I do not know how
long.
It couldn't have been long, however, for the rays had not ploughed more
than thirty of their twenty-foot furrows or so across the valley, when I
regained control of myself, and brought Wilma to herself by shaking her
roughly.
"How far will this rocket gun shoot, Wilma?" I demanded, drawing my
pistol.
"It depends on your rocket, Tony. It will take even the longest range
rocket, but you could shoot more accurately from a longer tube. But why?
You couldn't penetrate the shell of that ship with rocket force, even if
you could reach it."
I fumbled clumsily with my rocket pouch, for I was excited. I had an
idea I wanted to try; a "hunch" I called it, forgetting that Wilma could
not understand my ancient slang. But finally, with her help, I selected
the longest range explosive rocket in my pouch, and fitted it to my
pistol.
"It won't carry seven thousand feet, Tony," Wilma objected. But I took
aim carefully. It was another thought that I had in my mind. The
supporting repellor ray, I had been told, became molecular in character
at what was called a logarithmic level of five (below that it was a
purely electronic "flow" or pulsation between the source of the
"carrier" and the average mass of the earth). Below that level if I
could project my explosive bullet into this stream where it began to
carry material substance upward, might it not rise with the ai
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