The Robot Brains [with w_cat] | страница 39

"Senor Mendez has the floor," he announced.

Mendez, a big man with dark hair and moustache, rose and looked around the hall at the faces of outstanding politicians. Bright sunlight came in through the large windows. Outside the sky was clear and blue.

"We must attack again," said Mendez, "but not from the sky - from the ground..."

It seemed to him that it was very hot in the hall. Or was it only his imagination? He touched his collar.

"...a big attack from the ground..." he continued.

It was really hot. The temperature in the hall was quickly rising.

"...use heavy tanks..."

Mendez could not speak any longer. The people in the hall had also noticed the rise of the temperature. They were jumping up from their seats and running to the doors. The glass walls began to melt. A woman screamed: her dress suddenly began to burn...

In a few minutes the great building of the United Nations was burning. The New York firemen could not put out the fire because the water in their pipes was turning into steam. Nobody could do anything... and many of the world's outstanding statesmen perished in the great fire.

The tanks were moving forward. There were three rows of them, the most modern heavy tanks with powerful guns. They were making a circle around the buildings of the Imperial Technical Institute.

The commander was watching them through field-glasses from his observation post. He was a thin, grey-haired veteran, very sure of himself and very proud of his tanks.

The commander smiled to himself, remembering the bomb which had not exploded. Such things sometimes happened to bombs. But he was sure that nothing could stop his tanks. He continued watching them through his field-glasses. They were already near the Institute. Another second or two - and he was going to give the signal to open fire.

Suddenly something was wrong. The first row of tanks stopped. They began to change their shape. They were melting, like ice.

The commander seized his microphone. "Open fire!"

The second and third rows of tanks stopped, too. The commander saw through his field-glasses that they were melting. They were melting very quickly In a few minutes there were no more tanks. There were great pools of melted metal in their place.

Captain Christian threw the end of his cigar into the Thames and stepped down into the cabin. Paul was still working on his apparatus. It was a small box with wires, and it was difficult for Christian to believe that it could be an effective weapon against the Brains.