Battlefield In Black
By GEORGE A. WHITTINGTON
The Avenger was waging its deadliest
fight—in a battlefield where weapons were useless.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Fall 1945.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
A lovely image shimmered on the visa-phone screen in Captain Jon McPartland's cabin. He stood before the instrument, drinking in the vision with his eyes, and feeling it race through his blood like a rocket wash. But his square jaw was set in a determined line, and his big hands were clenched hard.
The vision was Almira Denton, whose hair was a red-gold nebula, whose eyes were the cool green of Terra itself. To Jon McPartland, she was much more than just the daughter of his superior, Marshal Denton, Supreme Commander of all Solar System forces.
A memory of her soft lips had been with him through long weeks of dangerous outer planet patrol. Now, bringing his sleek battle cruiser, Avenger, homeward, he reached toward her over maximum visa-phone range. Jon tried to keep anger from his blue eyes as he answered her suggestion.
"Almira, I don't care if you are a full-blown psychologist now and aching to qualify for the Congress of Specialists! You can't make a case report out of me."
"Now, Jon, dear," pleaded the girl softly, "you know how father needs help with Congress. Our scientists make the laws—but they think of science, and neglect System Defenses. I could make them listen!"