The Wind Between the Worlds Read Online Free PDF Page A

happens next?”
    She dropped back to the faster Galactic Code for that. As he knew, the accidental turning on of the transmitter had keyed in the one on Ecthinbal automatically to receive, but not to transmit; the air was moving between Earth and Ecthinbal in one-way traffic. The receiving circuit, which would have keyed in the Ecthinbal transmit circuit had not been shorted. Continuous transmittal had never been used, to her knowledge; there was no certainty about what would happen. Once started, no outside force could stop a transmitter; the send and stop controls were synchronous, both tapped from a single crystal, and only that proper complex waveform could cut it off. It now existed as a space-strain, and the Plathgolians believed that this would spread, since the outer edges transmitted before matter could reach the center, setting up an unbalanced resonance that would make the force field grow larger and larger. Eventually, it might spread far beyond the whole building.
    And, of course, since the metal used by the Betz II engineers could not be cut or damaged, there was no way of tunneling in.
    “What about Ecthinbal?” Pat asked.
    P theela spread her arms. “The same, in reverse. The air rushes in, builds up pressure to break the capsule, and then rushes out—in a balanced stream, fortunately, so there’s no danger of crowding two units of matter in one unit of space.”
    “Then I guess we’d better call the Galactic Envoy,” Vic decided. “All he’s ever done is to sit in an office and look smug. Now—”
    “He won’t come. He is simply an observer. Galactic Law says you must solve your own problem or die.”
    “Yeah.” Vic looked at the cloud of dust being whirled into the transmitter building. “And all I need is something that weighs a couple tons per square foot—with a good crane attached.”
    Pat looked up suddenly. “How about one of the small atom-powered army tanks, the streamlined ones? Flavin could probably get you one.”
    Vic stamped down on the pedal, swinging the little tractor around sharply toward the office. The wind was stronger there, but still buck-able. He clicked the televisor on, noticing that the dust seemed to disappear just beyond the normal field of the transmitter. It must already be starting to spread out.
    “How about it?” he asked Ptheela. “If it spreads, won’t it start etching into the transmitter and the station?”
    “No. Betz II construction. Everything they built in has some way of grounding out the effect. We don’t know how it works, but the field won’t touch anything put m by the Betzians.”
    “What about the hunk of glass that’s causing the trouble?”
    For a moment she looked as if she were trying to appear hopeful. Then the flowerlike head seemed to will. “It’s inside the casing, protected from the field.”
    Pat had been working on the private wire to Chicago, used for emergencies. She was obviously having trouble getting put through to Flavin. The man was a sore spot in Teleport Interstellar, one of the few political appointees. Nominally, he was a go-between for the President and the Teleport group, but actually he was simply a job-holder, Finally Pat had him on the screen.
    He was jovial enough, as usual, with a red spot on each cheek which indicated too many drinks for lunch. A bottle stood on the desk in front of him. But his voice was clean enough. “Hi, Pat. What’s up?”
    Pat disregarded the frown Vic threw her, and began outlining the situation. The panic in her voice didn’t require much feigning. Flavin blustered at first, then pressed the hold button for long minutes. Finally, his face reappeared.
    “Peters, you’ll have full authority, of course. I’ll get a couple tanks for you, somehow, but I have to work indirectly.” Then he shrugged and looked rueful. “I always knew this sinecure would end. I’ve got some slips here that make it look as if you had a national disaster.”
    His hand reached for the bottle, just