MONSOONS OF DEATH
By GERALD VANCE
[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories December1942. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Dreadful weaving shapes slithered through the stormtoward him
The gleaming insignia stripes on Lieutenant Ward Harrison's broadshoulders were less than two days old when he received his firstassignment.
"Lieutenant Harrison," his commanding officer said, glancing from thepapers he held in his hands to the young man who stood at attentionbefore his desk, "this will be your first touch of action since you werecommissioned. A lot depends on how you handle yourself."
"Yes sir," Ward answered. He straightened his already poker-straightspine. His face was young and serious and intent. There was a blaze ofzeal in his blue eyes and grimness in the tightness of his jaw. But alock of blonde hair that fell over his forehead lent an incongruouslyboyish cast to his grimly set features.
His commander, a Planetary Colonel, with thirty years of void experiencebehind him, smiled slightly and looked down at the papers in his handsagain.
"Your training record has been excellent, Harrison," he said, "and I amgratified to note that you apparently realize the seriousness of ourwork." He leaned back in his chair, looked up at the young Lieutenant."It took science hundreds of years to lick the problem of crossing thevoid of space to the outer planets. Now, that that much has beenaccomplished, the task of exploring and possibly developing andcolonizing those planets is ahead of us. The most important part of thatwork is up to men like you, Lieutenant Harrison. You are attached to themeteorology department with the job of doing the preliminary analysisand exploration on the various planets whose raw materials are essentialto Earth. Never for a minute underestimate the importance of that work."
Ward cleared his throat. "I won't sir."
"Good. There are other branches of the service that might seem moreglamorous, but all of them are dependent on your research and findings.Without meteorological survey the entire network of space stations wehave established would have been impossible. And the need today foraccurate and thorough research on atmospheric conditions in the Universeis greater than ever before. Always keep that in mind."
"I will, sir," Ward answered.
"Good," the colonel said. He ran a heavy hand through his silver-dustedhair and then picked up again the sheaf of papers from his desk.
"Your first assignment is to one of our established observation stationson Mars," he said.
Ward kept his face woodenly expressionless; but it was hard to concealhis disappointment. He wanted adventure and danger. He wanted to provehis courage and loyalty on some perilous journey to an uncharted,unexplored area, and there was little hope for such action on anestablished base.
"The station to which you are being sent," the colonel went on, "wasestablished three years ago by the man who is still in command there, acivilian by the name of Thomas Halliday. He is alone there, now. Hisassistant died about six months ago. You will act as Halliday'sassistant in atmosph