Star of Ill-Omen Page 5
Even allowing for numerous hoaxes, unscrupulous publicity-seekers and mass hysteria, there seemed far too much testimony by trained observers of known integrity to accept the official denial that any such things existed. It was Kem’s opinion that they did. He had also reached the conclusion that they could not be a secret weapon manufactured anywhere on this planet.
The construction of such huge machines would require a vast plant with thousands of employees. If the United States, Britain, the Dominions or any of the free nations of Europe had such a plant its purpose would be bound to have leaked out. Besides, both America and Europe were now so criss-crossed daily by airlines and private flyers that someone would certainly have seen from the air Saucers on the ground at any factory or base where they were prepared for flight.
Asia outside the Iron Curtain could be ruled out, because none of its peoples was sufficiently advanced to produce such a scientific wonder, except perhaps the Japanese, and they were still under American supervision.
Russia, too, could be ruled out. For her to have sent scores of Saucers over the United States would have been to risk that at any time one of them might be compelled to make a forced landing, with the result that American scientists would gain possession of its vital secrets; and if the Russians had achieved such a stupendous advantage for waging a future war against the United Nations, they would never be such fools as to throw it away before they were ready to use it with maximum effect.
Finally, Kem was convinced that, indifferent in some respects as United Nations Intelligence might be, it was very far from being so behind on vital matters for no single one of its agents to have ferreted out the base from which the Saucers came, if such a base existed anywhere on earth; and that had they done so he would, in his job, have been informed of it.
The unlikelihood of any human agency being responsible for these mysterious visitors was further strengthened by the fact that several entirely different types had been reported; and while British, American or Russian scientists might conceivably have designed one revolutionary type of aircraft, the odds were much greater against their having perfected several simultaneously.
Of the discs so far sighted the great majority appeared to be of a standard type, about 100 feet in diameter with a central hub, like a short mast, projecting from its upper surface. But the giant that had appeared over Fort Knox was said to have been 500 feet across, and the same, or perhaps an even larger one, which had been sighted later, was estimated to have a span of from 700 to 1,000 feet, whereas the discs that had chased and passed Commander McLaughlin’s rocket had been registered by the theodolite as spanning two feet only.
Size apart, these could be considered as of one type; but the thing that Captain Chiles of Eastern Airlines had seen at 2.45 in the morning of the 23rd of July 1948 bore no resemblance whatever to them. While flying his plane from Houston, Texas, to Atlanta a long cigar-shaped monster had come hurtling out of the night towards him. It had no fins; its fore-cabin was brilliantly lighted; a purplish band of light glowed from nose to stern down its side, and there spouted from its rear end a 50-feet-long orange flame. Apparently as a result of seeing the airliner, the monster suddenly turned on its full power, the tail flame doubled in length, and like the bullet from a gun the mystery ship shot up towards the stratosphere.
Chiles could not have imagined the occurrence, as his First Officer had seen it, too, and corroborated every detail: in addition, the only passenger who happened to be awake vouched for the streaking past of something which had momentarily lit up the interior of the plane with a baleful, unearthly glare, the like of which he had never seen.
And this was by no means the only case in which these great aerial torpedoes, with flame gushing from their sterns, had been reported. While piloting a big DC-6 at night near Mount Vernon, Captain William Sperry had met what he described as ‘a submarine with lights’. He was flying at 300 miles per hour, yet so terrific was the speed and manœuvrability of this terrifying night-rider that it circled twice round his aircraft before disappearing.
Then there were the things that the scientist, Mr. Gerald Heard, had so aptly termed Thinking Lights’ in his admirably lucid and unbiased book of Flying Saucers. The most spectacular case in which these had appeared was at Fargo, North Dakota. National Air Guard Lieutenant Gorman was about to land his aircraft there after participating in an exercise that ended after dark. Although he had been given the ‘all clear’ he saw a light flying across the airfield below him. Yet it was not the light of another plane; it was not attached to anything and had nothing whatever to support it. Greatly mystified, he dived down to get a closer view. It dodged him. He turned and chased it. Then for a full twenty minutes the light played tag with him, ducking, swerving, swooping and jumping while he fruitlessly pursued it. Finally, apparently having had its fun, and taken him up to 17,000 feet, it put on a burst of speed and disappeared upwards into the night sky. Again, there could be no question of Gorman suffering from hallucinations, as the officials in the control tower witnessed the whole extraordinary performance.
So these newcomers to earth’s skies varied both in type and in bulk; or rather, as a small flame has no body, from lack of it to a mighty disc which had been sighted simultaneously in towns 150 miles apart; thus, by simple triangulation, proving it to have been flying at an immense height, and to have been of enormous size for it to have been seen at that height at all.
But were they newcomers to earth’s skies? Research among old scientific journals had unearthed letters reporting the inexplicable appearance of hovering lights and great airships being seen among the clouds on numerous occasions during the last century. That these appearances had been few and far between in the past, yet had increased to almost monotonous frequency since the opening of the Atomic Age on earth, might in itself be a factor of extraordinary significance.
If, as seemed the only possible explanation, they came from some other world, they must be manned by beings scientifically far in advance of ourselves. Life on that world might have started a million years before life started here. If so, and life there had followed a similar pattern to life here, its inhabitants might have reached the Atomic Age while earth was still populated by prehistoric man.
Perhaps they had watched the development of life on earth for several millennia and been content to inspect it only at long intervals, until one day they had been suddenly given cause for grave alarm by seeing us explode what could only be an Atom bomb. They would have good cause for their alarm, as they would know that if we mishandled this terrible power we might blow up the earth, and in so doing throw the whole solar system out of gear, which would play havoc with their own seasons, oceans and climate. Such an anxiety could well account for their sudden increase in visitations, particularly as the greater part of them had taken place over United States air bases and secret weapon experimental stations.
For Kem the final proof that these aerial objects did come from another world lay in their extraordinary performance. No human pilot could conceivably have stood up to their terrific accelerations and violent swervings without blacking out. It was even a possibility that they were manned by beings totally unlike ourselves, for no intelligence that we can visualise could exist in a flying flame, and nothing resembling a human in a flat disc measuring only two feet in diameter. But perhaps the solitary lights contained only some form of camera and scientific instruments; and were controlled by radar from the giant disc sighted at Fort Knox, which normally floated far out of sight above the earth and acted as a mother ship to the standard discs. In support of such a theory evidence had come in from numerous airfields that radar signals had been picked up which could not possibly have emanated from any aircraft in the vicinity, or been the result of natural causes such as thunderstorms.
Who makes these signals, if not our mysterious visitors from outer space? Whence do they come? Are they in any way like us, or soulless, abhuman intelligences? That they are not infallible was shown by the disc that g
ot into difficulties over Maury Island and that on two occasions discs were compelled to make forced landings. But on both they left no trace, other than a great patch of burnt grass, which suggested that they were made of some very strong but easily combustible material, such as tough cellophane. It suggested, too, that their crews may have deliberately committed suicide rather than disclose their secrets and intent.
What form of power can the discs use which enables them to spin, roll and dart at enormous speeds in utter silence, with neither flame nor smoke coming from them, yet, as has been witnessed more than once, when flying low cause great forest trees to bend in their wake as though swept by a typhoon? And why, with the invisible power at their disposal, should they use another type for their cigar-shaped ships, causing them to spurt great tongues of flame like erupting volcanoes?
What are the intentions of these beings so far in advance of ourselves? Will they be content merely to explore our earth? Will they one day land, take charge of us, and with benign wisdom smooth out the incredible muddle to which our fears, greed and folly have now brought us, so that a new era of peace and prosperity dawns on the earth? Or do they, when they have gathered all the intelligence they require, mean to invade it; perhaps bringing with them a destruction even more terrible than any we may fear from the Hydrogen bomb—which is said to be as much more powerful than its atomic forerunner as that was to any explosive previously devised by man?
While Kem was speculating on these fearsome problems which in our own lives may foreshadow either the coming of a Golden Age or the obliteration of the whole human race in a Flaming Hell, he glanced from time to time at his wrist-watch. At sixteen minutes to twelve he banished such thoughts from his mind as completely as one can wipe clean a slate with a stroke of a wet sponge, stood up, and cautiously opened the door of his room.
The long corridor of the bachelors’ wing was lit only by the reflected glow of the lights on the main staircase. It was empty, but he remained there listening intently for a moment. No sound disturbed the silence of the house; so he closed the door behind him, locked it, pocketed the key, and, with no suggestion of furtiveness in his movements, walked quietly down the corridor.
At the main landing he paused and peeped over its elaborately scrolled iron-gilt balustrade. A big Moorish lantern, hanging at his own level, threw its light on the colourful Persian rugs and brocaded settees in the hall below. A faint breeze gently billowed the curtains, but otherwise all was utterly still and silent. Kem moved on, the rubber-soled shoes he was wearing carrying him as silently as a ghost across the tiled pavement that floored the upper arcade surrounding the central courtyard of the house.
The Escobar’s suite was self-contained, and situated in the cool south-east corner of the estancia. On reaching its outer door Kem knelt down to see if any light showed beneath it. There was none; so gripping the door-handle firmly he turned it right back, pushed gently, then stepped through into the dark hallway of the suite. Closing the door behind him, he switched on a small electric torch.
Two doors now confronted him and two others lay to his right and left. Opening each in turn he flashed his torch round the room into which it led. The first was Carmen’s boudoir, a charming room in Wedgwood blue, with white fluted pillars flanking arched alcoves containing shelves of books and a collection of biscuit china. The second was her bedroom, a setting any film star might have envied done in rose and gold. The third was a spacious bathroom typical of Latin-American exotic taste. It was mainly black marble, with a frieze of cupids picked out in white, and had its entire ceiling covered with mirrors. The fourth was Escobar’s dressing-room, but apparently he usually slept there, as the bed in it was made up and the pillows were slightly creased.
After his swift examination Kem decided that this last was the most likely in which to find the safe. Closing the door behind him, he locked it, then switched on the light and looked slowly around. His glance came to rest on a medium-sized flower painting hanging at shoulder level above a tulip-wood chest of drawers. With unerring instinct he walked over and took down the picture. There behind it was the circular door of a wall-safe; and the sight of it produced on Kem’s chubby face a happy grin, as it was a prewar pattern, not equipped with the electric timing devices which would have proved his worst headache.
Adjusting a stethoscope that he had brought with him for the purpose, for the next twenty-five minutes he concentrated entirely on it, working methodically and swiftly as he strained his ears to catch the fall of the lock’s tiny tumblers. At last he got the combination and the thick steel door swung open. It contained two shelves, and on the lower reposed Escobar’s precious red brief-case.
Having taken it out, he wondered for a moment what to do with it. Before leaving, it might be difficult to find an excuse to return to Escobar’s room to collect it, as it was certain that she would recognise it as her husband’s. Turning, he walked through the bathroom to her bedroom and hid it on the floor behind the draperies that formed a pair of french windows giving on to a balcony. Carmen would not see it there, and as he meant to leave that way in a few hours’ time it seemed the easiest place from which to retrieve it without her noticing him do so.
Had he been able to foresee the manner in which he would actually leave Carmen’s room, brave man as he was, Kem Lincoln would have gone white and palsied with terror; but his future was mercifully veiled from him.
Instead of dread, he was conscious of an almost breathtaking elation as the beam of his torch swept across the filmy night-dress that Carmen’s maid had laid out on the wide low bed for her. That afternoon he had taken a desperate gamble, but not in vain; for now by far the most important mission that had ever been entrusted to him was as good as safely accomplished. During it, despite himself, he had become involved in a delightful love-affair; and to crown his success the stage was set for him to carry away with him a glowing last memory of a lovely woman of whom duty had compelled him to make use, but whom he would always remember with tenderness.
In that moment he felt that he had good reason to count himself one of the spoilt children of the Gods. He forgot that the Gods so often make playthings of their children.
5
A Bedroom Scene
For a minute or two Kem continued to shine his torch round the luxuriously appointed bedroom. Although Carmen was only twenty-four, like most South American girls she had reached full womanhood early, and the room betrayed no evidence of lingering girlish tastes; its counterparts could only have been found in those of highly sophisticated leaders of fashion in the world’s great capitals. Yet in herself she was still unspoiled and, passionate though she was by nature, had had little experience in the arts of love. Kem noted the array of costly toilet preparations on her dressing-table, but noted also, standing in an alcove, a prie-dieu beneath a simple statuette of the Madonna, and he knew that she still practised her religion.
Again he blessed the good fortune that had sent him such a perfect mistress, then he was suddenly overcome with a wave of depression at the thought that in a few hours he must part with her for good. He wondered miserably what she would think of him when she learned the truth, as she must as soon as Escobar was released and returned to find that his safe had been burgled. Knowing the depth of the feeling he had aroused in her, he hoped that it would not make her too bitter. But perhaps the revelation of deceit would be all to the good, as it should cause her to banish quicker any craving for him in her mind. In any case, she had been resigned to the ending of their affaire when they landed at Buenos Aires, and only the necessities of his mission had impelled him to insist on prolonging it. Both of them had known then that they could only hope for a few more brief meetings before final separation.
With a sigh he switched out his torch, went through to Escobar’s room and began systematically to go through the remaining contents of the safe. As he had left his room at a quarter to twelve it was as yet only a little after half past. The nightly game of baccarat at the estancia never broke
up before one and sometimes went on until two. Feeling confident that he could count on a clear half-hour, at the very least, before there was any likelihood of Carmen being able to come upstairs, he did not hurry himself, but examined everything carefully.
He had seen at once that Escobar’s brief-case contained too many papers for him to photograph them all in the time at his disposal, so that he could leave the originals, apparently untouched, as he would have liked to do; but he thought there might be other papers in the safe which it would be worth while recording with his micro-camera.
At first it looked as if he was going to be disappointed, as the greater part of the safe was occupied by stacks of bonds and share certificates, and a score or more of Carmen’s jewel-cases. But right at the back on the top shelf he came upon a japanned black box about twelve inches long and four deep. On forcing its locks he found in it a pile of letters, and a quick look through them showed that some bore dates as far back as the nineteen-thirties. Thinking it probable that they contained some of the secrets of Escobar’s private life which it might be useful to have on the files, Kem took them over to the bed and began to examine them more carefully.
Many were love-letters, and he was only three-quarters of the way through sorting these out from the official and business correspondence when, to his consternation, he heard the outer door of the hall open.
It was barely a quarter to one. It was possible that Carmen had managed to get away unexpectedly early. On the other hand it might be her maid, who had forgotten something when preparing her mistress’s room for the night, and returned to rectify her oversight rather than risk a scolding. In either case discovery now lurked round the corner.