Juice by L. Sprague de Camp

Author:L. Sprague de Camp [Camp, L. Sprague De]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci Fi Short Story
Publisher: Super Science Stories
Published: 1940-05-23T00:00:00+00:00

Priest turned back to the door. “We’d better do something. They’re exploring the wiring system.”

“Sure, but what? Let’s see; what’s their conscious world like? Ours is made up of gravitational fields, and certain electromagnetic waves and sound waves, like the sound-waves between sixteen and 20,000 cycles. Our balls are probably blind to gravitational fields and soundwaves, but strongly conscious of magnetic and static fields. The wires and pipes are like hallways to them. Insulators are like walls or closed doors. Air they move slowly through, like a man swimming.”

“But that doesn’t get us out,” protested Miss McGlomb. “You scientists are supposed to be smart—”

Gaston jumped nervously. “I’m not a scientist, my dear young lady. I’m just a poor dumb engineer—”

Gaston put in: “Don’t rattle him, sweetheart. The great brain has to—

“But,” the girl persisted, “all you do is sit around and talk about walls and bicycles. Can’t you do anything but lecture? Captain Sella—”

“Miss McGlomb,” snarled Gaston tensely, “will you be so very kind as to shut up—before I stove your ports for you? Where was I? Oh yes. They shouldn’t be able to see, lacking organs for focusing light-rays. But they might be able to tell which direction electromagnetic waves arc coming from, the way you can locate the heat from a fire. If they feed on current, and can locate a source…I know, a trap!”

In a few minutes the men had rigged up a box of miscellaneous glass plates, precariously held together by machine-tape. The plate at one end was fastened at the upper edge only, so that it was free to swing.

“Now,” said Gaston, “the bait.” He rummaged around until he found a spark-coil. He explained: “We’ll put the secondary inside, and the primary outside next to the glass.”

“Yeah,” said Priest, “but how to get the ball through the door?”

“We’ll open the door.”

“What?” shrilled Miss McGlomb, “let those things in here?”

“We’ll pin Bill’s and my rubber aprons together,” said Gaston. “Curtain. Stuff up the spaces on the sides of the box with glass wool.”

“I won’t let you—” began Miss McGlomb, but a growl from Priest stopped her. Gaston said: “Don’t make it any harder for us, young lady. If a ball gets into the ionizers, the whole fuel supply’ll go off with a loud bang. Only we shan’t hear it.”

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