THE LONG REMEMBERED THUNDER
BY KEITH LAUMER
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of Tomorrow April 1963
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
He was as ancient as time—and as strange as
his own frightful battle against incredible odds!
I
In his room at the Elsby Commercial Hotel, Tremaine opened his luggageand took out a small tool kit, used a screwdriver to remove the bottomcover plate from the telephone. He inserted a tiny aluminum cylinder,crimped wires and replaced the cover. Then he dialed a long-distanceWashington number and waited half a minute for the connection.
"Fred, Tremaine here. Put the buzzer on." A thin hum sounded on thewire as the scrambler went into operation.
"Okay, can you read me all right? I'm set up in Elsby. Grammond's boysare supposed to keep me informed. Meantime, I'm not sitting in thisdamned room crouched over a dial. I'll be out and around for the restof the afternoon."
"I want to see results," the thin voice came back over the filteredhum of the jamming device. "You spent a week with Grammond—I can'twait another. I don't mind telling you certain quarters are pressingme."
"Fred, when will you learn to sit on your news breaks until you've gotsome answers to go with the questions?"
"I'm an appointive official," Fred said sharply. "But never mindthat. This fellow Margrave—General Margrave. Project Officer for thehyperwave program—he's been on my neck day and night. I can't say Iblame him. An unauthorized transmitter interfering with a Top Secretproject, progress slowing to a halt, and this Bureau—"
"Look, Fred. I was happy in the lab. Headaches, nightmares and all.Hyperwave is my baby, remember? You elected me to be a leg-man: now letme do it my way."
"I felt a technical man might succeed where a trained investigatorcould be misled. And since it seems to be pinpointed in your homearea—"
"You don't have to justify yourself. Just don't hold out on me. Isometimes wonder if I've seen the complete files on this—"
"You've seen all the files! Now I want answers, not questions! I'mwarning you, Tremaine. Get that transmitter. I need someone to hang!"
Tremaine left the hotel, walked two blocks west along Commerce Streetand turned in at a yellow brick building with the words ELSBYMUNICIPAL POLICE cut in the stone lintel above the door. Inside, aheavy man with a creased face and thick gray hair looked up from behindan ancient Underwood. He studied Tremaine, shifted a toothpick to theopposite corner of his mouth.
"Don't I know you, mister?" he said. His soft voice carried a note ofauthority.
Tremaine took off his hat. "Sure you do, Jess. It's been a while,though."
The policeman got to his feet. "Jimmy," he said, "Jimmy Tremaine." Hecame to the counter and put out his hand. "How are you, Jimmy? Whatbrings you back to the boondocks?"
"Let's go somewhere and sit down, Jess."
In a back room Tremaine said, "To everybody but you this is just avisit to the old home town. Between us, there's more."
Jess nodded. "I heard you were with the guv'ment."
"It won't take long to tell; we don't know much yet." Tremaine coveredthe discovery of the powerful unidentified interference on thehigh-security hyperwave band, the discovery that each transmissionproduced not one but a pattern of "fixes" on the point of origin. Hepassed a sheet of paper across the