Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 74: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

708 ing with extraordinary swiftness, and seem- ingly with little jerks, like a manikin. Georgie held his breath, for the Banker popped forward, his head and shoulders piercing the glowing phosphorescent walls and floor of the cabin. He stood motionless a brief instant, his face close to Georgie’s knees. Then, even more rapidly than he had advanced, he threw a swift glance around and retreated. Georgie recovered himself. said. ‘‘ Wasn’t that weird though? we're all right. I feel fine now.” The droning of the Frazia motors sounded very faintly above the humming. It was a relief—a help toward normality. The plane was slowly raising into the air. As it mounted, the roof of the Scientific Club dwindled away below. It was a dark night, with heavy clouds, and a cold wind from the east. The city, with snow on its rooftops, was sliding eastward beneath them—vague black shadows, dark buildings dotted with lights, and seemingly empty streets. They were still mounting diagonally up- ward, drawn vertically by the helicopters and carried sidewise by the wind, when the Hudson River slid underneath. “ Rotten weather, Mr. Rogers,” Georgie suggested. “Ves” Rogers agreed. ‘ But that will not bother us for very long. Are you warm enough?” “One heater is going,” Georgie re- sponded. ‘I'll switch on another.” He had familiarized himself thoroughly with the various mechanical appliances of the plane, and he turned a switch that threw current into another of the small electric radiators. _ “ Anything else?” he demanded. “No, I think I shall try the higher in- tensities of the Proton current. I want cur time-progress accelerating as much as possible right from the beginning.” Georgie selected a seat hastily. It was not much of an ordeal. The humming seemed to move up a scale, to a higher pitch as Rogers pulled the lever around. The reeling of the senses came again, but passed almost at once. “ There,” said Rogers’ voice. “ I’m glad (44 Oh,”’ he But ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. that’s accomplished. We are at the fifteenth intensity—the highest that Loto used.” Georgie was staring down through the floor window. ‘I can see lights down here. The highest speed Loto used? Why he didn’t describe it this way—” “Our acceleration will pick up over several hours,” Rogers replied. ‘‘ Our time- progress is still comparatively slow.” The drone of the Frazia motors was still sounding. ‘“How high are we, do you suppose?”’ Georgie demanded after a moment. ‘“‘ Possibly five thousand feet. We’re blowing westward over New Jersey. And a little to the south, I think. Soon it will He His words were anticipated. The scene lighted swiftly. It was day—a dull, cold- looking, cloudy morning. Below them lay New Jersey—almost a net-work of villages on the fringe of lowlands. A more con- gested area of buildings was almost directly beneath and slid under them as_ they watched it. “Newark!” exclaimed Georgie. ‘“ And we’re into to-morrow. We're making it— we'll soon be with Loto.” They were up higher than Rogers realized —ten thousand feet at least. And their drift seemed constantly of a more southern trend. It was still uncomfortably cold in the cabin. “Perhaps we should stay at this level,” Rogers remarked. ‘‘ We seem to have caught a wind from the north.” He slowed down the helicopters until the plane was no longer rising. As though they had been in a balloon, they were hang- ing level, blowing over the country—nearly south at some twenty miles an hour. Night came again in a few moments. Lights dotted the landscape below—but they were vague, flickering lights. Then day, with sunlight. The wind subsided. The plane’s southern drift was stilled. And then came night with a moon plunging across the sky, and stars dizzily sweeping past. Then day again, until presently the daylight and the darkness were blended into gray. The drift was permanently passed. In a blending of all the diversified air cur- rents, the plane remained almost stationary. CoOmicoooks (S@)