Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Astounding Stories March 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
Dr. Bird fell back under the ferocity of her attack.
Poisoned Air
By Capt. S. P. Meek
A telephone bell jangled insistently. The orderly on duty dropped hisfeet from the desk to the floor and lifted the receiver with amuttered curse.
"Post hospital, Aberdeen Proving Ground," he said sleepily, rubbinghis eyes.
A burst of raucous coughing answered him. Several times it ceased foran instant and a voice tried to speak, but each time a fresh spasm ofdeep-chested wracking coughing interrupted.
"Who is this?" demanded the now aroused orderly. "What's the matter?"
Between intervals of coughing difficultly enunciated words reachedhim.
"This is—uch! uch!—Lieutenant Burroughs atthe—uch!—Michaelville range. We have been—uch!—caught in acloud of poison—uch! uch!—gas. Send an ambulance anda—uch!—surgeon at once. Better bring—uch!—gas masks."
"At the Michaelville range, sir? How many men are down there?"
"Uch! uch! uch!—five—all help—uch! uch!—helpless. Hurry!"
"Yes, sir. I'll start two ambulances down at once, sir."
"Don't forget the—uch! uch!—gas—uch!—masks."
"No, sir; I'll send them, sir."
Five minutes later two ambulances rolled out of the garage and tookthe four-mile winding ribbon of concrete which separated theMichaelville water impact range from the main front of the AberdeenProving Ground. On each ambulance was a hastily awakened and partiallyclothed medical officer. For three miles they tore along the curvingroad at high speed. Without warning the leading machine slowed down.The driver of the second ambulance shoved home his brake just in timeto keep from ramming the leading vehicle.
"What's the matter?" he shouted.
As he spoke he gave a muttered curse and switched on his amberfog-light. From the marshes on either side of the road a deep blanketof fog rolled up and enveloped the vehicle, almost shutting off theroad from sight. The forward ambulance began to grope its way slowlyforward. The senior medical officer sniffed the fog critically andshouted to his driver.
"Stop!" he cried. "There's something funny about this fog. Every oneput on gas masks."
He coughed slightly as he adjusted his mask. His orders were shoutedto the ambulance in the rear but before the masks could be adjusted,every member of the crew was vying with the rest in the frequency andviolence of the coughs which he could emit. The masks did not seem toshut out the poisonous fog which crept in between the masks and themen's faces and seemed to take bodily possession of their lungs.
"I don't believe we'll ever make the last mile to Michaelville throughthis, Major," cried the driver between intervals of coughing. "Hadn'twe better turn back while we can?"
"Drive on!" cried the medical officer. "We'll keep going as long as wecan. Imagine what those poor devils on the range are going throughwithout masks of