Flame-Jewel of the Ancients
By EDWIN L. GRABER
The tiny golden sphere, blazing with terrible
energy, spelled Galactic Empire at last to
the out-space horde, once they had tapped its
limitless power. They were grimly amused
therefore when Captain Glayne of the Stellar
Guardians dropped innocently out of sub-space
to view their mighty prize.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Spring 1950.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The two Terran super Galactics glided side-by-side in the immensityof the interstellar void. Secure in the knowledge that they were themightiest battleships ever built in the known galaxy, they didn'tbother to raise their anti-energy shields. They knew, absolutely, thatno other warcraft in the universe could equal their strength....
Jukes, the third pilot, lounged carelessly in his gimbal-slung shockseat, idly watching the screen before him. Aside from his sistership, there was nothing to be seen but the harsh points of starlight.Cautiously he looked over his shoulder to see if the executive officerwere nearby, then, apparently satisfied, lit a cigarette and blew anexpansive plume of smoke at the serried banks of instruments thatwere terraced about him.
Suddenly the intermittent glowing of a red blinker aroused him.Throwing the butt to the deck, he bent forward, squinting into thescreen. Far down in one corner he detected an irregularly sparklingmote moving slowly across the blazing points of the distant stars. Witha single motion of his arm he swept the Call to Quarters alarm studsand began to speak rapidly into his throat transmitter. As the muffledvibrating thunder of his ship's drivers rose, he could make out hissister ship gradually swinging into an approach orbit.
A double tap on his shoulder informed him that the first pilot wasthere to take over. Smoothly he slipped from the shock seat and tookup his station with the other two pilots near the auxiliary controlboards. Everywhere about him was excited, orderly confusion as the hugewarship stripped for possible action. The orbit calculators at his lefttook up the excited jabbering chorus and somewhere above the thirdpilot was aware of the massive charge accumulators for the Kellandermiatron blasters whining up the scale.
"It's a Delban," he muttered to his fellow pilots. "Just a pipsqueak,too, blast his miserable, trespassing soul. A light cruiser, from whatI saw of him."
The younger one looked at him eagerly. "Do you think he'll fight?"
The third pilot snorted. "One Stellar class cruiser against two TerranGalactics? He'd be out of his mind."
Just then the battle screen lit up and a babbling group of gunneryofficers crowded about, feeding firing data to waiting miatron crews.Over their shoulders the third pilot could make out the Delban cruiseras it lay there, slim and deadly against the vast, star-studded vaultof space.
"What I'd like to know is why the devil he doesn't run for it," theolder pilot said to no one in particular. "Something's up, I'm sure.Delbans just don't act like this."
The third pilot grunted absently, his eyes fixed on the battle screen.The two Galactics now lay on either side of the Delban. His sister shipbegan to communicate with the new arrival, her yellow beam glowingwith baleful intensity. But the pilot wasn't watching. He had noticedsomething odd about that cruiser. It seemed to bulge in the wrongplaces. It was complet