Hell's Walls

The traitors were, it seemed, a degenerate gang of Americans, located a few miles north of Nu-yok on the wooded banks of the Hudson, the Sinsings. They had exchanged scraps of information to the Hans in return for several old repellor-ray machines, and the privilege of tuning in on the Han electronic power broadcast for their operation, provided their ships agreed to subject themselves to the orders of the Han traffic office, while aloft.

The traitors were apparently a degenerate gang of Americans called the Sinsings. They lived a few miles north of Nu-yok, on the wooded banks of the Hudson. They had traded scraps of information to the Hans for several old repellor-ray machines. They also gained permission to use the Han electronic power broadcast to operate the machines. In return, their ships had to follow the orders of the Han traffic office while in the air.

The rest wanted to ultrophone their news at once, since there was always danger that we might never get back to the gang with it.

The rest wanted to ultrophone their news right away. There was always a danger that we might never get back to the gang with it.

I objected, however. The Sinsings would be likely to pick up our message. Even if we used the directional projector, they might have scouts out to the west and south in the big inter-gang stretches of country. They would flee to Nu-yok and escape the punishment they merited. It seemed to be vitally important that they should not, for the sake of example to other weak groups among the American gangs, as well as to prevent a crisis in which they might clear more vital information to the enemy.

I objected, though. The Sinsings would likely pick up our message. Even if we used the directional projector, they might have scouts to the west and south. Those scouts might be in the vast stretches of country between the gangs. The Sinsings would flee to Nu-yok and escape the punishment they deserved. It seemed vitally important to stop them. Their punishment would serve as an example to other weak groups among the American gangs. It would also prevent a crisis in which the Sinsings might pass more vital information to the enemy.

"Out to sea again," I ordered Gibbons. "They'll be less likely to look for us in that direction."

"Head back out to sea," I ordered Gibbons. "They're less likely to look for us there."

"Easy, Boss, easy," he replied. "Wait until we get up a mile or two more. They must have discovered evidences of our raid by now, and their dis-ray wall may go in operation any moment."

"Easy, Boss, easy," he replied. "Wait until we're a mile or two higher. They must have found evidence of our raid by now, and their dis-ray wall may go into operation at any moment."

Even as he spoke, the ship lurched downward and to one side.

As he spoke, the ship lurched downward and to one side.

"There it is!" he shouted. "Hang on, everybody. We're going to nose straight up!" And he flipped the rocket-motor control wide open.

"There it is!" he shouted. "Hang on, everybody. We're going straight up!" He opened the rocket motor control all the way.

Looking through one of the rear ports, I could see a nebulous, luminous ring, and on all sides the atmosphere took on a faint iridescence.

Looking through one of the rear windows, I could see a hazy, glowing ring. The air shimmered faintly with colors on all sides.

We were almost over the destructive range of the disintegrator-ray wall, a hollow cylinder of annihilation shooting upward from a solid ring of generators surrounding the city. It was the main defense system of the Hans, which had never been used except in periodic tests. They may or may not have suspected that an American rocket ship was within the cylinder; probably they had turned on their generators more as a precaution to prevent any reaching a position above the city.

We were almost above the destructive range of the disintegrator-ray wall. It was a hollow cylinder of annihilation, shooting upward from a solid ring of generators around the city. It was the main defense system of the Hans, but it had never been used except in periodic tests. The Hans may or may not have suspected that an American rocket ship was inside the cylinder. They had probably turned on the generators as a precaution, to prevent any American rocket ship from reaching a position above the city.

But even at our present great height, we were in great danger. It was a question how much we might have been harmed by the rays themselves, for their effective range was not much more than seven or eight miles. The greater danger lay in the terrific downward rush of air within the cylinder to replace that which was being burned into nothingness by the continual play of the disintegrators. The air fell into the cylinder with the force of a gale. It would be rushing toward the wall from the outside with terrific force also, but, naturally, the effect was intensified on the interior.

But even at our great height, we were in serious danger. It was unclear how much harm the rays themselves could have done us. Their effective range was not much more than seven or eight miles. The greater danger was the tremendous downward rush of air inside the cylinder. The air was replacing what the disintegrators were constantly burning into nothingness. It fell into the cylinder with the force of a gale. Air would also be rushing toward the wall from outside with tremendous force, but naturally, the effect was stronger inside.

Our ship vibrated and trembled. We had only one chance of escape—to fight our way well above the current. To drift down with it meant ultimately, and inevitably, to be sucked into the destruction wall at some lower level.

Our ship shook and trembled. We had only one chance to escape: fight our way well above the current. If we drifted down with the current, we would eventually be sucked into the destruction wall at a lower level. There was no escaping it.

But very gradually and jerkily our upward movement, as shown on the indicators, began to increase, and after an hour of desperate struggle we were free of the maelstrom and into the rarefied upper levels. The terror beneath us was now invisible through several layers of cloud formations.

But the indicators showed that we were rising faster, very gradually and in jerks. After an hour of desperate struggle, we escaped the maelstrom and reached the thin air above. The terror below us was now hidden by several layers of clouds.

Gibbons brought the ship back to an even keel, and drove her eastward into one of the most brilliantly gorgeous sunrises I have ever seen.

Gibbons leveled the ship and flew east into one of the most brilliantly beautiful sunrises I have ever seen.

We described a great circle to the south and west, in a long easy dive, for he had cut out his rocket motors to save them as much as possible. We had drawn terrifically on their fuel reserves in our battle with the elements. For the moment, the atmosphere below cleared, and we could see the Jersey coast far beneath, like a great map.

We made a wide circle to the south and west in a long, gentle dive. He had shut off his rocket motors to conserve them as much as possible. We had used up a tremendous amount of fuel fighting the elements. For a moment, the air cleared below us, and we could see the Jersey coast far beneath us, like a great map.

"We're not through yet," remarked Gibbons suddenly, pointing at his periscope, and adjusting it to telescopic focus. "A Han ship, and a 'drop ship' at that—and he's seen us. If he whips that beam of his on us, we're done."

"We're not through yet," Gibbons said suddenly, pointing at his periscope and adjusting it for a telescopic view. "A Han ship, and a 'drop ship' at that. He's seen us. If he aims that beam of his at us, we're done."

I gazed, fascinated, at the viewplate. What I saw was a cigar-shaped ship not dissimilar to our own in design, and from the proportional size of its ports, of about the same size as our swoopers. We learned later that they carried crews, for the most part of not more than three or four men. They had streamline hulls and tails that embodied universal-jointed double fish-tail rudders. In operation they rose to great heights on their powerful repellor rays, then gathered speed either by a straight nose dive, or an inclined dive in which they sometimes used the repellor ray slanted at a sharp angle. He was already above us, though several miles to the north. He could, of course, try to get on our tail and "spear" us with his beam as he dropped at us from a great height.

I stared at the viewplate, fascinated. I saw a cigar-shaped ship, similar in design to our own. Judging by the size of its ports, it was about the same size as our swoopers. We learned later that these ships usually carried crews of no more than three or four men. They had streamlined hulls and tails with double fish-tail rudders mounted on universal joints. They rose to great heights using their powerful repellor rays. Then they gained speed by diving straight down or at an angle. In an angled dive, they sometimes used the repellor ray tilted sharply. He was already above us, though several miles to the north. He could, of course, try to get on our tail and "spear" us with his beam as he dived at us from a great height.

Suddenly his beam blazed forth in a blinding flash, whipping downward slowly to our right. He went through a peculiar corkscrew-like evolution, evidently maneuvering to bring his beam to bear on us with a spiral motion.

Suddenly, his beam burst out in a blinding flash and swept slowly downward to our right. He made a strange corkscrew turn, apparently trying to aim his beam at us in a spiral motion.

Gibbons instantly sent our ship into a series of evolutions that must have looked like those of a frightened hen. Alternately, he used the forward and the reverse rocket blasts, and in varying degree. We fluttered, we shot suddenly to right and left, and dropped like a plummet in uncertain movements. But all the time the Han scout dropped toward us, determinedly whipping the air around us with his beam. Once it sliced across beneath us, not more than a hundred feet, and we dropped with a jar into the pocket formed by the destruction of the air.

Gibbons instantly sent our ship through a series of maneuvers that must have looked like a frightened hen’s movements. He alternated between the forward and reverse rocket blasts, varying their force. We fluttered, shot suddenly to the right and left, and plunged straight down in unpredictable movements. But all the while, the Han scout descended toward us, relentlessly sweeping his beam through the air around us. Once, the beam sliced beneath us, less than a hundred feet away. We dropped with a jolt into the pocket left by the destroyed air.

He had dropped to within a mile of us, and was coming with the speed of a projectile, when the end came. Gibbons always swore it was sheer luck. Maybe it was, but I like pilots who are lucky that way.

He had dropped to within a mile of us and was approaching at the speed of a projectile when the end came. Gibbons always insisted it was pure luck. Maybe it was, but I like pilots who are lucky that way.

In the midst of a dizzy, fluttering maneuver of our own, with the Han ship enlarging to our gaze with terrifying rapidity, and its beam slowly slicing toward us in what looked like certain destruction within the second, I saw Gibbons' fingers flick at the lever of his rocket gun and a split second later the Han ship flew apart like a clay pigeon.

We were in the middle of a dizzying, fluttering maneuver. The Han ship grew terrifyingly fast in our view, and its beam slowly swept toward us. Destruction seemed certain within a second. Then I saw Gibbons flick the lever of his rocket gun. A split second later, the Han ship flew apart like a clay pigeon.

We staggered, and fluttered crazily for several moments while Gibbons struggled to bring our ship into balance, and a section of about four square feet in the side of the ship near the stern slowly crumbled like rusted metal. His beam actually had touched us, but our explosive rocket had got him a thousandth of a second sooner.

We staggered and fluttered wildly for several moments as Gibbons struggled to balance our ship. Meanwhile, a section of the ship’s side near the stern, about four square feet, slowly crumbled like rusted metal. His beam had actually touched us, but our explosive rocket had hit him a thousandth of a second sooner.

Part of our rudder had been annihilated, and our motor damaged. But we were able to swoop gently back across Jersey, fortunately crossing the ship lanes without sighting any more Han craft, and finally settling to rest in the little glade beneath the trees, near Hart's camp.

Part of our rudder had been destroyed, and our motor was damaged. But we were able to glide gently back across Jersey. Fortunately, we crossed the ship lanes without seeing any more Han craft. Finally, we landed in the small clearing beneath the trees, near Hart's camp.