Warfare between Earth, Venus and Mars is brewing, their hates being fanned by the sinister intrigues of a power-drunk armament baron, Chester Candris. Candrris is enamoured of Ann Urslor, the fiancée of a government official, Ken Hargraves. When Hargraves departs into deep space on a secret mission to prevent the impending war, he is followed by Candris who shoots him, disposing of his rival. But some time later, a gigantic face in the depths of space appears in the night skies on Earth, apparently watching over the planet...and gradually moving nearer. The press dubs the face 'the Interloper' and humanity watches in superstitious awe... then the Interloper speaks!
Release date:
March 31, 2015
Publisher:
Gateway
Print pages:
95
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The scare headlines concerning the possibility of tri-planetary war between Earth, Mars, and Venus, came to a head on July 9, 1987. On this date diplomatic relations with Venus ceased to exist and Ambassador Kenneth Hargraves made the 60-million mile journey home. He arrived on the evening of July 12 towards eight in the evening, his glittering official spaceship settling down at the gigantic London air and spaceport. There to greet him were the usual high-ranking officials and, hovering in the background, his fiancee Ann.
Ann herself was quite high ranking enough to be represented in the official welcoming party since she was Ann of the Urslors, the ruling faction of the unified Earth. But she preferred that her re-union with her loved one be a quiet, inconspicuous affair.
“Any reports, Mr. Hargraves?” questioned the leading newshounds, as the cameras and television equipment went into action—but Kenneth Hargraves shook his head.
“Nothing more than you’ve already heard, boys. Venus is right out of our calculations from here on, and the exact reason for the friction is known only to the highest authorities. Don’t expect me to betray the confidence of my office.”
“How’s the chances of there being tri-planetary war?”
The ambassador’s only response was an enigmatic shrug; then he pushed his way through the press representatives towards the high-ups waiting to welcome him. He went through the official tedium of handshakes and bows as the various delegates of Unified Earth were presented in turn. Then at last the bothersome business was over and he turned towards the official car drawn up in readiness. It was at this point that Ann of the Urslors intercepted him.
“Ann!” There was real delight on Kenneth Hargraves’ tired, young face. “The best picture I’ve seen for many a month!”
Forgetting all about his high station for the moment he swept the girl up in his arms and embraced her. Laughing a little she pulled herself free and gave an embarrassed glance at the faintly smiling officials.
“Ken, you shouldn’t! Not here!”
“Why not? When I’ve seen nothing but Venusians, dust storms, jungles, and unsmiling Venusian faces for months I’m surely entitled to a break!”
“Do you have to take the official car?” Ann asked.
“Not essential. Just as long as I report to the Secretary as soon as possible.”
“Then come over to my car. We can talk as we go.”
Ken nodded, made his excuses to the officials—which they accepted calmly enough—and then fell into step beside Ann as she led the way to her own luxurious car. In a few moments the wooden-faced chauffeur was driving them out of the extensive spaceport grounds.
“How bad are things?” Ann asked quietly.
“Never bad when I can look at you,” Ken smiled, and his keen blue eyes went over Ann’s rounded features and to the deep black of her uncovered hair.
“Maybe I could say the same in regard to you,” she commented, refreshing the memory she had carried with her for so many long months—the memory of those blue eyes, youthfully determined features, and rangy frame. Ken Hargraves, before being appointed ambassador to Venus, had been one of the world’s most daring test astronauts for spaceships. And the fearless look had somehow never left his face. His expression was that of man eternally looking into the infinite wilderness of space.
“Things,” he said slowly, coming back to the point, “are not at all good, Ann. That’s the most I can say, even to you, without betraying my office. In the last few months things have gone from bad to worse, and the vituperation which certain Earthman have been slinging at Venus over the interplanetary radio hasn’t helped my task any.”
“No, I suppose not.” Ann’s face was serious. “Chester Candris’ vilification, for one!”
“I wasn’t going to refer to him specifically, but since you mention it, yes.”
Ken’s face hardened as he became silent again. Chester Candris was the same age as himself—thirty-four—and in common with most of the youngish people of this go-ahead generation was already in a position of high eminence. He owned the huge Candris Arms Combine and it went without saying that the life blood of the Combine must be war. The earlier days when arms had been needed for the conquest of the inner planets, and during which Candris had piled up his fortune, had gone now. Fresh fields must be found to swell the coffers. So he had not been idle in using every subtle, ruthless trick he could think of to poison relations between the three formerly friendly inner planets.
“Has he been pestering you whilst I’ve been away?” Ken asked bluntly, as the car swept at a hundred miles an hour down the North Boulevard of the metropolis.
“You mean Chet? Yes, of course he has.” Ann gave a little sigh and looked moodily through the bow window. “Can’t stop him doing that, Ken, and he’s not exactly the shy type. It hasn’t got him any further, though. There’ll only be you, always. You know that.”
“My dearest, you know I’m not doubting you for a moment: it’s Chet Candris I have my knife into. He’d try any dirty trick to separate you from me and marry you himself.”
“He’d have to have my consent, and that he’ll never get.”
“You’re sure? He’s worth the devil of a lot more than I am, financially.”
“Money doesn’t come into it—And you know it!” Ann exclaimed, her eyes brightening a little in defiance.
“Okay, okay,” Ken grinned. “Let’s forget about it. Maybe he’ll blow himself up in his own arms dump one day, or something.”
Ann made no comment. She knew as clearly as did Ken that Chester Candris was not the kind of man to blow himself up. He never made mistakes, and his own personal safety was his everlasting concern.
“As soon as I’ve finished with the Secretary I’m free,” Ken said presently, as the end of the Boulevard was reached and the car sped down the canyons of streets between the 1,000-foot high edifices of central London. “I’m due then for a long rest—three months of it. Time for us to marry, honeymoon, and then get the future sort of ship-shape.”
“You believe, then, that we can plan for the future? I’d thought with things being as they are war might explode round our ears at any moment.”
Ken did not commit himself in his answer. “Whether it does or not we have to plan, haven’t we? The future’s dead if we don’t.”
Noticing Ken’s neat get-out Ann did not pursue the topic any further. He had to obey the statute of secrecy which his position demanded, and Ann loved him far too much to put him in a false position. She smiled at him as at length the Edifice of the Secretary was reached and the car halted.
“Shan’t be long,” Ken promised, alighting, and then he hurried up the steps of the huge building wherein was contained the entire administration of the planet Earth, under the official directorship of the man known simply as The Secretary. It was not that the British Commonwealth dominated the world, or that one country ruled another: it was simply that every country had a delegate in London, chiefly because of its central geographical position, and each country so represented was in agreement with the power possessed by the Secretary. Thuswise a once nebulous League of Nations had come about, but peace on Earth did not necessarily mean peace elsewhere.
Presently, after the usual formalities, Ken found himself in the presence of the Secretary. This austere, elderly man with the load of responsibility inclined his white head but briefly as Ken entered and then motioned to the chair at the other side of the desk.
“Naturally, Ambassador Hargraves, your news is disturbing?” the Secretary asked.
“I’m afraid so, sir.” Ken unfastened his brief case and laid a series of documents on the desk. “There are my reports up to the time of diplomatic relations being severed. I’m still of the opinion that the friction which has arisen between ourselves and Venus need never have come about. Most of it was inflamed by irresponsible propaganda from Earth here.”
The Secretary glanced briefly at the documents. “As to that, Ambassador, there is nothing that can be said. I have not the power to stop a man or woman speaking. It has always been the policy in this country to allow anybody to speak freely.”
“But surely something could have been done to choke down Chester Candris? He deliberately insulted the ruling factions of Venus and that about finished everything. Diplomatic relations were severed soon afterwards.”
“I am aware of it. And Mr. Candris owns a big network of radio stations, all with sufficient power to transmit inter-planetary propaganda. Nothing can be done about that.”
“But why not?” Ken demanded. “Surely, when it means that our whole planet may be exposed to war we——”
“You may be sure,” the Secretary interposed gravely, “I have done everything within my legal power. However, I should not let it disturb you unduly. I know that matters have reached a point where war between Venus and Earth—with Mars later siding with Venus—appears inevitable. But there is one long chance of stopping it.”
“For instance?” Ken did not look convinced.
“The plan that has been devised is not my own: it is the conception of the world’s leading scientists and is extremely secret. In fact its whole success relies on not a single hint of it escaping beyond those responsible for it. It has been decided that you are the man to put it into effect. Since you are an ex-test astronaut, with a profound knowledge of space both amongst the inner and outer planets, the selection could hardly be bettered.”
Ken smiled. “I’m obliged for the compliment, sir, but what exactly shall I have to do?”
“This!” The Secretary handed across four pages of foolscap, all closely printed, upon which was set forth in detail the plan which had been devised. Ken sat back in his chair and read attentively. When at last he had finished he looked up to meet the Secretary’s impersonal gaze across the desk.
“It’s the most astonishing scheme I ever heard of!” Ken declared.
“But feasible. You must admit that?”
“Definitely. A remarkably clever idea, but do you think it will have the effect intended?”
“That we don’t know, but our experts on mass psychology are firmly convinced that the plan will succeed. If it does it will usher in a new era of peace and prosperity. At any rate it’s a gamble worth taking. You are not ordered to undertake this task, Mr. Hargraves. You can accept or refuse, now. What is your decision?”
“I’ll do it, of course! I’d never forgive myself if I was not in at this… There’s just one thing: when would I have to start?”
“You will be permitted six hours leave, no more. You are aware that the need is urgent. Not a moment must be lost.”
Ken compressed his lips as he saw his hoped-for three months vacation vanishing like a pipe dream. But this was no time for personal indulgences.
“Right!” he said finally. “I’ll take it on in six hours. In the meantime perhaps you will ha. . .
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