'Remember what I told you about seeing a golden space ship on an orbit around the Earth? I've been checking that. I have a hunch there's some clue connected with that ship.'
'How do you figure that out?'
Marion perched on a corner of the desk, her trim legs swinging under the lab smock she wore.
'The ship was obviously created by some civilization far in advance of ours. That means their science was also in advance of today's. Perhaps in that vessel I can find some weapon—some method unknown to modern science—that will help me fight the plague. The very least it can do is set me on the right track.'
Marion patted her dark hair into place, though she boasted that she had lost all the silly feminine habits.
How can you reach the ship? Space travel is impossible.'
Court smiled. 'It was impossible. Rockets are useless as yet, because the fuel problem's insurmountable. Balloons weren't practical. But there is a way of overcoming gravitation.
'Good Lord!' The girl slid down from the desk and stood staring. 'You don't mean—'
'Hold on. I haven't done anything yet, except make some spectroscopic analyses. Marion, that space ship isn't made of gold! It's a yellow metal, an unknown alloy. I haven't finished analyzing it, but I know there's magnesium there, tungsten, and other elements. The virtue of that alloy is that, properly magnetized, it becomes resistant to gravitation.'
'How?' she asked, amazed.
Court tapped idly on the tray as he replied.
'I'm just theorizing, though I feel pretty certain. Earth is a gigantic magnet. You know that. Well, like poles repel, opposite poles attract. If we could set up a magnetic force absolutely identical to Earth's, we could utilize that principle. So far it hasn't been done, except by the unknowns who built that golden ship. If I can duplicate the alloy—which I think I can do—and shoot the right sort of energy into it, we'll have a space ship.'
'Whew!' Marion breathed, and she blinked. 'Then you'll go out after—'
'The golden vessel? Yes. It may be a wild goose chase, for all I know, but the chance is worth taking. I may find scientific knowledge that will be just what I need.'
The girl turned away with such haste that Court looked at her sharply.
'What is it?' he demanded.
She shook her head speechlessly. Court got up swiftly and swung her around to face him. There were tears in her lovely brown eyes.
'Tell me what it is!' he commanded. 'What's wrong?'
She bit her lip. 'You'll think I'm foolish.'
'I said, tell me what it is!'
'I'm just superstitious,' Marion burst out. 'It isn't scientific at all. But for a minute I had the queerest feeling that— that—'
'Well?' he said impatiently, frowning and gripping her shoulders.
'That there's danger in that ship,' she whispered. 'Danger to you, Stephen. As though that golden ship had been waiting for ages, perhaps—just for the moment when you'd enter it.'
He grinned ironically and sat down again. Gulping milk, he watched Marion laughingly over the rim of the glass.
'A sort of ancient rendezvous,' he teased. 'You're under a nervous tension, Marion. We all are,' he admitted, sobering. 'And there's reason enough, I'm afraid.'
They fell painfully silent. Both were thinking of the man who lay alone in a lead-plated room upstairs. Sammy was already being ravaged by the frightful plague from outer space. Court got up, squaring his shoulders with decision.
'He didn't back down, you know, and I certainly won't run from a shadow. Get my suit, Marion. It's time to check up on Sammy again.'
Nervously she helped Court don the armor.
'There's something going on at the village,' she said. 'Not a—a shadow, either. Since the plague has hit the newspapers, the villagers are frightened.'
'Why?' Court asked, slipping on his gloves. 'There's been only one case in this country as yet, and that was in Georgia. Europe, Africa, China? Sure. But—'
'Somebody's been talking. They know about Sammy. They claim that you're exposing the whole village to deadly danger by keeping Sammy here.'
'Damned idiots!' He made an impatient gesture with his lead-gauntleted hand. 'Sammy's completely isolated. There's no danger at all.'
'They're not scientists,' she argued. 'Just ordinary people, most of them fairly uneducated. But they've got families and—Well, I'm afraid.'
'The police can't touch me.'
'It's not that.' Marion bit her lip and paused. Then she shrugged. 'It doesn't matter, I suppose. But I hope nothing happens.'
'Nothing will,' he assured her.
He went out, hurrying through a long corridor to a lead-plated door. When he knocked, there was no response. Making sure there were no gaps in his armor, Court entered the experimental room.
It was large, yet amazingly cluttered with apparatus. The lead walls dully reflected the dim light. On white- topped tables by the hospital bed lay gauges, indicators, and enigmatic looking devices.
The figure on the bed was completely unrecognizable. The metamorphosis had come so swiftly that Sammy was horribly inhuman in appearance. His skin emitted a silvery radiance. His face was a mere bag of loosely wrinkled skin, hanging repulsively about the jutting nose. His mouth was invisible below eyes that were gleaming but blind.
Court fought down the sick horror that tore at his stomach. He dared not give way to sentiment, nor even admit its existence. Before him was a test case, a laboratory subject. That was all. He must forget that he had ever known the old man, that the faithful regenerated tramp has been his only friend, his entire family…
'Hello, Sammy,' he said in a voice that would not lose its choked quality. 'How do you feel?'
There was no motion perceptible in the shrunken body on the bed. But a remarkably clear voice murmured a reply.
'Hello, Stevie.'
'Any change?'
'None. I'm just hungry.'
Court took a rabbit from a lead-lined box beside the bed, and placed it gently in the malformed talons that once had been Sammy's hand. Instantly there was a change. The small beast kicked convulsively and was still. The glow emanating from Sammy's skin brightened slightly.
'That better?'
'Yes. Thanks, Stevie.'
Court drew up a chair and clumsily sat down in it. Through the lead-infiltrated goggles, his eyes probed. With gloved fingers he made adjustments on the apparatus, and carefully checked the readings on certain gauges.
'The change is progressive,' he muttered under his breath.
Drawing a microscope toward him, he took a sample of the patient's skin cells and prepared a slide.
'Yes, entropy. . Incredible! I still can't understand—'
'What is it, Steve?' Sammy asked weakly.
'Nothing new. But I'll find a cure yet. You can depend on me, Sammy.'
The hideous folds of wrinkles twitched in a ghastly semblance of amusement.
'Tour cure won't help me. I'm hungry again.'
Court gave the old man another rabbit. Then he took pencil and paper, set a stop-watch on the table, and began the usual word-association test. Though simple, it had proved surprisingly effective in checking on the patient's mental metamorphosis.
But now Court was due for a surprise. The test proceeded normally, Sammy responding without much hesitation, though over two words—'man' and 'We'—he paused perceptibly. Then Court said, 'Food,' and immediately Sammy responded, 'Human.'
Court made a great effort to control himself. He read the next word, and the next, but he did not even hear
