Destroyer of Worlds by E. C. Tubb Read Free Book Online Page A

Frank spoke from his chair. ‘Full strength?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘For an indefinite period?’ Weight’s voice held doubt. ‘The generators might not be able to take maximum load for too long.’
    ‘Full strength for five minutes. Cut for checking then resume for fifteen. Check again then operate at half power until we are an hour from impact.’
    An hour from madness and maybe death and the time could be less if the bubble was moving towards them. Manton doubted that it was. Maddox hoped that he was right.
    ‘Ready to activate,’ said Weight. ‘Three, two, one — on!’
    A shimmer softened the glow of the stars, a ripple made of broken rainbows which strengthened even as he watched and settled into a sparkling, coruscating bowl which covered the ship. Electronic wizardry devised by Manton and built by the technicians. Forces bent and twisted into channelled lines. Energies formed and held in powerful fields. A defence powered by the strength of the atomic engines, refined in the generators, fed through projectors set about the exterior hull of the Ad Astra.
    ‘Loss?’
    ‘Two per cent below normal, Commander.’
    ‘Reason?’
    ‘Maladjustment, I think.’ Weight grunted as he sent his hands flying over his controls. Before him a digital readout moved, figures glowing with ruby flame. ‘A slight imbalance, Commander. Now compensated. Operational level one per cent above.’
    Under test the screen had withstood the fury of exploding nuclear devices, but what they faced was no familiar form of energy. The screen might be useless and probably was, yet it had to be incorporated into their defences. Maddox glanced again at the chronometer. Two minutes remained of the initial period.
    ‘Boost to absolute maximum, Frank.’
    ‘Commander?’
    ‘Do it!’ If the generators were to fail it was better to find out now rather than later. ‘Lift and hold.’
    The rainbow shimmer thickened, blanked the stars with its coruscating curtain, throwing a lambent glow over the outer hull, the surface installations of the ship. Scanners gave an external view, a curved surface dotted with scintillating flashes like tiny explosions; local flares of energy escaping from the confining fields.
    ‘Strength falling,’ said Weight. ‘Decay accelerating. Power-loss nine per cent…eleven…fifteen…eighteen…Commander?’
    ‘Maintain.’ A muscle twitched high on one cheek as Maddox watched the tell-tales on the console. Any weakness had to be found and eliminated, suspect points strengthened, extra circuits incorporated if necessary.
    ‘Twenty-one…two…’ Weight’s voice rose and he half turned in his chair. ‘A quarter down, Commander!’
    ‘Maintain!’
    Hold the torrent of power as the gauges fell and the scintillating flashes grew until they sparkled like a miniature battlefield over the glowing hull. Until the meters flashed red and the alarm stabbed the air with its warning snarl.
    ‘Cut!’ Maddox drew in his breath as the sound and flashing died. ‘Report?’
    ‘Fifty per cent loss of retrieved power — total loss close to seventy-three per cent. Reserve accumulators depleted by a third. Insulation damage on generators two and five. Terminal corrosion on points three to twelve, seventeen to twenty-nine.’ Frowning Weight added, ‘I don’t understand this. The last regular maintenance report showed all installations at optimum level. Those generators should have stood up better than that.’
    ‘When was the last check made?’ Maddox nodded at the answer. ‘Before the last warning. I thought so. Can anyone really be certain what they saw and did during that time?’
    ‘Sabotage?’ Weight’s voice echoed his incredulity. ‘That’s tantamount to suicide. Who —?’ He broke off, remembering, feeling again the terrible revulsion, the urge to run, to hide, to escape. ‘Someone maybe tried to kill himself. He rigged the generator in some way hoping it would blow. Maybe, under external stress, it would have