The Radiant Shell
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The Radiant Shell
By Paul Ernst
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from "Astounding Stories"January 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
_The man on the metal plate was vanishing._]
"And that, gentlemen," said the Secretary of War, "is the situation.Arvania has stolen the Ziegler plans and formulae. With theiracquisition it becomes the most powerful nation on earth. The Zieglerplans are at present in the Arvanian Embassy, but they will be smuggledout of the country soon. Within a month of their landing in Arvania, warwill be declared against us. That means"--he glanced at the tense facesaround the conference table--"that we have about three months to live asa nation--unless we can get those plans!"
There was a hushed, appalled silence, broken at last by General Forsyte.
"Nonsense! How can a postage-stamp country like Arvania really threatenus?"
"The day has passed, General," said the Secretary, "when a nation'spower is reckoned by its size. The Ziegler heat ray is the deadliestweapon yet invented. A thousand men with a dozen of the ray-projectorscan reduce us to smoking ruins while remaining far outside the range ofour guns. No! I tell you that declaration of war by Arvania will befollowed by the downfall of the United States inside of three months!"
Again the hushed, strained silence descended over the conference table,while one white-faced man gazed at another and all speculated on theincredible possibility of a world in which there was no United States ofAmerica.
"We must get the plans," nodded Forsyte, convinced at last. "But how?March openly on the Arvanian Embassy?"
"No, that would be declaration of war on _our_ part. The World Court,which knows nothing of the Ziegler plans, would set the League at ourthroats."
"Send volunteers unofficially to raid the place?"
"Impossible. There is a heavy guard in the Arvanian Embassy; and I morethan suspect the place bristles with machine guns."
"What _are_ we to do?" demanded Forsyte.
The Secretary seemed to have been waiting for that final question.
"I have had an odd and desperate plan submitted me from an outsidesource. I could not pass it without your approval. I will let you hearit from the lips of the planner."
He pressed a buzzer. "Bring Mr. Winter in," he told his secretary.
* * * * *
The man who presently appeared in the doorway was an arresting figure. Aman of thirty-odd with the body of an athlete, belied somewhat by thepallor of an indoor worker, with acid stained, delicate hands offset byforearms that might have belonged to a blacksmith, with coal black hairand gray eyes so light as to look like ice-gray holes in the deepcaverns of his eye-sockets. This was Thorn Winter.
"Gentlemen, the scientist, Mr. Winter," announced the Secretary. "Hethinks he can get the Ziegler plans."
Thorn Winter cleared his throat. "My scheme is simple enough," he saidtersely. "I believe I can walk right into the Embassy, get theplans--and then walk right out again. It sounds kind of impossible, butI think I can work it by making myself invisible."
"Invisible?" echoed Forsyte. "Invisible!"
"Precisely," said Thorn in a matter-of-fact tone. "I have just turnedout a camouflage which is the most perfect yet discovered. It wasdesigned for application to guns and equipment only. I'd never thoughtof trying to cover a human body with it, but I am sure it can be done."
"But ... invisible ..." muttered Forsyte, glancing askance at Winter.
"There's no time for argument," said the Secretary crisply. "Thequestion is, shall we give this man permission to try the apparentlyimpossible?"
All heads nodded, though in all eyes was doubt. The Secretary turned tothe scientist.
"You are aware of the risk you run? You realize that if you are caught,we cannot recognize you--that we must disclaim official knowledge ofyour work, and leave you to your fate?"
Thorn nodded.
"Then," said the Secretary, his voice vibrant, "yours is the mission.And on your effort hangs the fate of your country. Now--what help willyou require?"
"Only the assistance of one man," said Thorn. "And, since secrecy isvital, I'm going to ask you, sir, to be that man."
The Secretary smiled; and with that smile he seemed to be transformedfrom a great leader of affairs into a kindly, human individual. "I amhonored, Mr. Winter," he said. "Shall we go at once to your laboratory?"
* * * * *
In the great laboratory room, the Secretary glanced about almostuneasily at the crowding apparatus that was such an enigma to oneuntrained in science. Then his gaze returned to Winter's activities.
Thorn was carefully stirring fluids, poured drop by drop from variousretorts, in a mixing bowl. All the fluids were colorless; and theycombined in a mixture that had approximately the consistency of thinsyrup. To this, Thorn added a carefully weighted pinch of glitteringpowder. Then he lit a burner under the bowl, and thrust into the mixturea tiny, specially constructed thermometer.
"You can really make yourself invisible?" breathed the Secretary.
"I can," said Thorn, "if the blisters don't upset my calculations bymaking my body surfaces too moist for this stuff to stick to. I'm goingto have you paint me with it, you see, and it was never intended tocover flesh."
He regulated the burner anxiously, and then began to take off hisclothes.
"Ready," he said at last, glancing at the thermometer and turning offthe burner. He stood before the wondering Secretary, a fine, muscularfigure. "Take this brush and cover me with the stuff. And be sure not tomiss any of me!"
And then the Secretary saw why Thorn had said the colorless paint wasnever intended to be applied to human flesh. For it was still seethingand smoking in the cauldron.
"Good heavens!" he said. "Don't you want to wait till it cools alittle?"
"Can't," said Thorn. "It has to be applied hot or it loses itsflexibility."
The Secretary dipped the brush and began to paint the naked flesh of thescientist. Not a quiver touched that flesh as an almost microscopicallythin, colorless layer formed into a film after the brush strokes. Butthe Secretary's fingers shook a little.
"My God, man!" he said finally. "Doesn't it hurt?"
"It's a little like being boiled in oil," replied Thorn grimly. "Outsideof that it's all right. Hurry, before the stuff gets too cool."
* * * * *
The clinging thin shell covered him to his chest, then to his throat. Atthat point he reached into a drawer in a workbench beside him and drewout two small, hollow hemispheres of glass. These he cupped over hiseyes.
"What are those for?" asked the Secretary.
"So my eyes can be covered with the film. If they weren't, I'd presentthe somewhat remarkable spectacle of a pair of disembodied eyes walkingdown the street."
Painfully, agonizingly, the hot film was applied to throat and face;over the glass spheres that cupped around the eyes; over a tight leathercap covering the scientist's hair; and over a sort of footballnose-guard which extended down an inch below the end of Thorn's nose ina sort of overhanging offset that would allow him to breathe and stillkeep his nostrils hidden. The Secretary stepped back.
Before him stood a figure that looked not unlike a glazed statue of aman. The effect was that of a body encased in clear ice--and like clearice, the encasing shell sparkled and glittered radiantly in the sunlightthat poured in at the windows.
Thorn moved. His glazed arms and legs and torso glistened with all thecolors in the spectrum; while under the filmed bulges of gl
ass his eyeslooked as large as apples. The Secretary felt a chill of superstitiousfear as he gazed at that weird and glittering figure with its enormousglazed eyes.
"But you aren't invisible," he said at length.
"That comes now," said Thorn, walking ahead of the Secretary while onthe ceiling above him danced red and yellow and blue rainbows ofrefracted light.
* * * * *
He stepped onto a big metal plate. Suspended above was a huge metalring, with its hole directly over the spot on which he stood.
"Soft magnets," explained Thorn. "As simply as I can put it, my processfor rendering an object invisible is this: I