Masters of Space

E. Everett Evans
Masters of Space, by

Edward Elmer Smith and Edward Everett Evans This eBook is for the
use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org
Title: Masters of Space
Author: Edward Elmer Smith Edward Everett Evans
Illustrator: Berry
Release Date: September 24, 2007 [EBook #22754]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MASTERS
OF SPACE ***

Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Stephen Blundell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

PART ONE
MASTERS OF SPACE

By EDWARD E. SMITH & E. EVERETT EVANS
Illustrated by BERRY

The Masters had ruled all space with an unconquerable iron fist. But
the Masters were gone. And this new, young race who came now to
take their place--could they hope to defeat the ancient Enemy of All?

I
"But didn't you feel anything, Javo?" Strain was apparent in every line
of Tula's taut, bare body. "Nothing at all?"
"Nothing whatever." The one called Javo relaxed from his rigid
concentration. "Nothing has changed. Nor will it."
"That conclusion is indefensible!" Tula snapped. "With the promised
return of the Masters there must and will be changes. Didn't any of you
feel anything?"
Her hot, demanding eyes swept the group; a group whose like, except
for physical perfection, could be found in any nudist colony.
No one except Tula had felt a thing.
"That fact is not too surprising," Javo said finally. "You have the most
sensitive receptors of us all. But are you sure?"
"I am sure. It was the thought-form of a living Master."
"Do you think that the Master perceived your web?"
"It is certain. Those who built us are stronger than we."
"That is true. As they promised, then, so long and long ago, our
Masters are returning home to us."

* * * * *
Jarvis Hilton of Terra, the youngest man yet to be assigned to direct
any such tremendous deep-space undertaking as Project Theta Orionis,
sat in conference with his two seconds-in-command. Assistant Director
Sandra Cummings, analyst-synthesist and semantician, was tall, blonde
and svelte. Planetographer William Karns--a black-haired,
black-browed, black-eyed man of thirty--was third in rank of the
scientific group.
"I'm telling you, Jarve, you can't have it both ways," Karns declared.
"Captain Sawtelle is old-school Navy brass. He goes strictly by the
book. So you've got to draw a razor-sharp line; exactly where the
Advisory Board's directive puts it. And next time he sticks his ugly
puss across that line, kick his face in. You've been Caspar Milquetoast
Two ever since we left Base."
"That's the way it looks to you?" Hilton's right hand became a fist. "The
man has age, experience and ability. I've been trying to meet him on a
ground of courtesy and decency."
"Exactly. And he doesn't recognize the existence of either. And, since
the Board rammed you down his throat instead of giving him old
Jeffers, you needn't expect him to."
"You may be right, Bill. What do you think, Dr. Cummings?"
The girl said: "Bill's right. Also, your constant appeasement isn't doing
the morale of the whole scientific group a bit of good."
"Well, I haven't enjoyed it, either. So next time I'll pin his ears back.
Anything else?"
"Yes, Dr. Hilton, I have a squawk of my own. I know I was rammed
down your throat, but just when are you going to let me do some
work?"
"None of us has much of anything to do yet, and won't have until we

light somewhere. You're off base a country mile."
"I'm not off base. You did want Eggleston, not me."
"Sure I did. I've worked with him and know what he can do. But I'm
not holding a grudge about it."
"No? Why, then, are you on first-name terms with everyone in the
scientific group except me? Supposedly your first assistant?"
"That's easy!" Hilton snapped. "Because you've been carrying chips on
both shoulders ever since you came aboard ... or at least I thought you
were." Hilton grinned suddenly and held out his hand. "Sorry,
Sandy--I'll start all over again."
"I'm sorry too, Chief." They shook hands warmly. "I was pretty stiff, I
guess, but I'll be good."
"You'll go to work right now, too. As semantician. Dig out that
directive and tear it down. Draw that line Bill talked about."
"Can do, boss." She swung to her feet and walked out of the room, her
every movement one of lithe and easy grace.
Karns followed her with his eyes. "Funny. A trained-dancer Ph.D. And
a Miss America type, like all the other women aboard this spacer. I
wonder if she'll make out."
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 69
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.