by Roger Elwood
Turning back to the globe itself: Its greater mean density than Earth’s is due to a higher percentage of heavy elements, especially those later in the periodic table than iron. This leads to a particularly hot core which, combined with the rapid rotation, is the source of the magnetic field screening the atmosphere from solar wind. (Of course, the field is far weaker than in any generator—roughly twice as strong as Earths—but it reaches way out.) Having not only more interior heat but a smaller volume, Cleopatra radiates more strongly.
This means that it is geologically, or planetologically, more active. There are more hot springs, geysers, volcanoes, quakes, and tsunamis, especially along the leading edges of continents and in midocean (vide infra). There is faster mountain building, aided by the lower gravity which permits higher upheavals and steeper slopes. (The same is true of sand dunes.) Erosion proceeds more rapidly too; hence spectacularly sculptured uplands are quite common.
With the crustal plates more mobile than on Earth, we get an overall situation—there are many local exceptions, of course—about as follows. No continent is as big as Eurasia; the largest is comparable to North America. Their shelves drop sharply off to more profound depths than Terrestrial. They define—in the same rough way as on Earth—four major oceans, each surrounded by its “ring of fire” and marked down the middle by archipelagos of which numerous islands are volcanic. Elsewhere are smaller, shallower seas. Along with the tide patterns (vide infra), these factors tend to inhibit the generation of great ocean currents, and thus to somewhat isolate the latitudes from each other. That isn’t all bad; if “Norway” has no “Gulf Stream” to warm it, neither does the “Pacific Northwest” have a “Kuroshio” to chill it, and marine life is even more varied than on Earth.
The proportion of land to water surface is slightly higher than Terrestrial, mainly because of the powerful upthrust of crustal masses—though doubtless the splitting of H2O molecules by ultraviolet quanta, before there was a protective ozone layer, also has a good deal to do with this. However, there is no water shortage; in fact, the smaller size of individual land blocs and the vigorous air circulation make for better distribution of this substance and keep continental interiors reasonably temperate.
The abundance of heavy metals is a boon to industry, yet not altogether a blessing. Some of these elements and their compounds are poisonous to man. Concentrated in certain areas, they make the soil, or organisms living there, dangerous. But again, this is by no means the universal case, and precautions are not hard to take once people have been warned. Several beautiful minerals and gemstones appear to be unique to this planet.
SATELLITES
Cleopatra has no moon in the usual sense. Perhaps it once did, or perhaps an asteroid was captured. In any event, at some point in the fairly recent past (estimated 10 million years ago), this body (estimated mass, 0.001 that of Luna) came within the Roche limit and was pulled asunder by tidal forces.
Numerous fragments fell. The biggest left traces in the form of huge circular lakes, bays and valleys. Meteorites are still coming down as perturbation maneuvers them out of orbit. So there are many pitted rocks, many craters great and small, on Cleopatra, the newest sharply defined, the oldest blurred by erosion. On any clear night, shooting stars may be seen delightfully often.
But most of the disrupted mass formed a ring, at a mean distance of some 7500 km from the surface, which is still around and will probably last for millions of years to come. It is not like the ring(s) of Saturn, the latter consisting of tiny ice particles. Cleopatra is surrounded by a belt of stony and metallic fragments, ranging in size down to gravel and fine dust. There is considerable space between the average pair of rocks, though of course this varies.
Except for Charmian and Iras (vide infra), the satellites are too small to be seen by day against sun glare. Moreover, being nearly in the equatorial plane, the ring shows best in the tropics. In high latitudes one sees it low in the sky, often obscured by mountains, woods, or haze; and one cannot see it at all in the polar regions (above latitude 66°) aside from a few isolated, far-out particles.
The ring is at its most spectacular at equatorial midnight around the time of solstice. Then a band of hundreds of glittering, twinkling fireflies streams across the sky from west to east, the faster (nearer) overtaking the slower (further out) though all move swiftly. Irregular in shape, scoured and scored by dust, many sparkle in prismatic hues as well as white. The dust itself forms a dimly glowing background, through which stars can be seen. Though the band has no constant or definite boundaries, it averages about 10° wide, brightest at the middle, fading out toward the edges.
The mean synodic period of a particle, i.e., the time for a complete cycle from rising to rising as observed on the ground, is 7.5 hr or about 0.43 Cleopatran day. This is 48° per hr, or rather more than three times as fast as Sol or Luna crosses the Terrestrial sky. However, the ring is too close in for the entire half arc to be visible anywhere on the planet, so the maximum time observed (at the equator) is 1 hr 22 m.
That time is really only interesting as concerns the two members of the ring which are so big that they may be called tiny moons. They have, indeed, been given names, Charmian and Iras. (At the nomenclature conference, one faction wanted a Ftaatateeta but was voted down.) Charmian is the larger and slightly closer. In fact, it seems just about the same size as Luna does on Earth, though its actual mean diameter is not quite 70 km. Iras has about half the linear cross section and moves a little slower. (The respective synodic periods are 7.6 and 8.2 hr, which means that Charmian overtakes Iras every 102 hr or 5.9 Cleopatran days. These figures are subject to some oscillation because of assorted gravitational influences.) The two orbits are so skewed that, while they come near, the moonlets seldom overlap.
In other words, they move along the ring approximately four times in a Cleopatran day and night, going through approximately 5.6 phase-change cycles as they do; but most of this cannot be seen from any single place on the ground.
Neither looks much like Luna. Charmian is only roughly spheroidal, Iras still less so. They show angles, facets, promontories and markings as they orbit the planet while spinning in a wobbly fashion. They both resemble Luna in being large and reflective enough to remain visible during an eclipse.
This eclipse is due to the fact that Cleopatra’s shadow crosses the rings. There is sufficient axial tilt that at a solstice, only a small “bite” is taken out of the lower edge of the band at its lowest point—and the band is irregular, fluctuating, and vaguely defined enough for this not to be particularly noticeable. But as the planet moves on around its sun, the geometry changes. About 23 Cleopatran days after solstice, the shadow arc entirely bisects the ring. By equinox, ca. 160 days after solstice (ca. 115 Earth days), the eclipse is at a maximum.
At this season, when watched from the equator, the ring— including the two moons—streams upward from the west as before. But at an azimuth of about 52°, not quite 60% of the way up to the zenith, the particles blank out. They do not reappear until they are correspondingly near the eastern horizon and descending. Charmian, Iras, and a few of the largest meteoroids remain visible but turn dull coppery red from atmosphere-refracted light, as they transit the dark gap.
This cycle of eclipse and full illumination is repeated twice in the course of a year. The precise appearance of the ring, as well as its position in the heavens, depends on time and location of the observer.
But at any season—what with auroras, background sky glow, stars, ring, and the frequently seen changeable moonlets — Cleopatran nights are not unduly dark. In clear weather, a human can make his way around pretty well without artificial light.
The tidal pull of Caesar is small, about one-third that of Sol on Earth or less than one-fifth the total of what Earth gets. Were the ring particles concentrated in one mass, the total heave would be enormous, about 18 times what Luna gives to Earth. Scattered as they are, they produce only minor effects individually. But the resultants are com
plex and variable. The seas do not get stagnant, and crosscurrents often make them choppy.
GENERAL BIOLOGY
Given a planet this similar to Earth, it is not surprising that here too life arose, based on proteins in water solution, and in time developed photosynthesizing plants which formed and now maintain an oxynitrogen atmosphere. It is unusual to have so many details duplicated. (To be sure, given the vast number of worlds in the galaxy, this must happen once in a while.) Here too life uses predominantly levoamino acids and dextro sugars. Many lipids, carbohydrates, hydrocarbons, pyrroles, etc. are the same as on Earth, chlorophyl and hemoglobin included (with some minor variations). In like manner, we find viruses, bacteria, protozoa, vegetable and animal kingdoms.
Now it would be too improbable for every detail to be the same, considering how many are the consequence of random “choice” among numerous possibilities. Much Cleopatran life can be eaten by man, is nourishing and tasty; but some of it is poisonous, and all of it lacks certain vitamins and other nutrients. Hence one can live only temporarily on an exclusive diet of it. This is not a great handicap. In fact, basically it is desirable, because it works both ways. Native germs cannot function in the human body, native viruses are not equipped to take over human genetic machinery—in short, to man this is an infection-free world.
And of course he can introduce his own plants and animals. Given a start—e.g., by eradication of deadly weeds from a range—they will flourish. Soon the problem will be to save the Cleopatran ecology. Once established, Terrestrial life will spread fast and overwhelmingly unless it is controlled. For it is further evolved.
After all, Cleopatra is younger than Earth. If anything, it is surprising how far life has developed, in so much less time. Conceivably the energetic sun, the higher lever of actinic radiation and electrical discharge, promoted rapid development of the primitive protobiology and later microorganisms. But afterward, perhaps, the weak tides—making for a sharper division between sea and land—delayed the conquest of the latter.
At any rate, though inaccurate, it is helpful to think of this world as being in a “Mesozoic” era.
PLANTS
Angiosperms have not yet developed. There are primitive equivalents of the spermatophytes, including some gymno-sperms. These are most common in the drier inland and upland regions. The coasts, marshes, etc. are dominated by types similar to Terrestrial bryophytes and pteridophytes, more elaborated than on present-day Earth. Because of certain rootlike structures, they are known as dactylophytes.
Nothing like grass or flowers exists. Moist areas are carpeted with low, dense, intensely green vegetation resembling moss. Species of this phylum have developed protection against drying out and are therefore found elsewhere as ground cover in paler and stiffer versions. Many trees and shrubs (if one may call them that) have colorful pseudoblooms, analogous to those of our poinsettias, to lure pollinators.
Among the more picturesque plants are: The misnamed dinobryons, huge dactylophytes in wet regions which suggest spongy green many-branched coral growths; the aquatic weir-plant and its land relatives, the dichtophytes, carnivorous species which grow in the form of great nets to trap sizable prey; the Venus mirror, a bush named for its highly reflective leaves, which attract glitterwings; the chameleon plant, which exhibits changes of shade and even to some degree color, according to lighting conditions—a camouflage against eaters; the sarissa, resembling sharp-pointed bamboo but growing in clusters which bristle almost horizontally outward, supported by roots along the stalks; the grenade, a bush whose round pods explode spectacularly, though harmlessly, to scatter seeds; the Christmas memory, a primitive evergreen whose roughly shaped but brilliant red cones are like oraments; and the delicious sugarroot.
No one region has all kinds. Some genera are circumpolar, others not. This is likewise true in the zoological field.
ANIMALS
A biologist would vehemently deny that Cleopatra has insects, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals, or anything else Terrestrial, other than what man may import. There are too many differences of detail, some quite fundamental. Nevertheless, resemblances are close enough—when similar environments have selected for similar characteristics—that pioneers are not inclined to split every semantic hair.
The colonists do use scientific names for the broad classes. But “worm” has so wide a meaning even on Earth that it can reasonably be applied to numerous legless invertebrates on Cleopatra. One interesting family is that of the arthroscholes, whose segments carry articulated, chitinoidal blue armor. Thus protected, they may grow to lengths of more than a meter.
“Insectoid” soon became shortened in daily language to “secto,” and is as loosely applied as ever “insect” and “bug” were on Earth. There are countless kinds of secto. Among the famous are the glitterwing, like a moth whose wings are almost mirrorlike because of tiny metallic particles; a long, many-legged, bulge-eyed scuttler called the I-spy; and the smidgin, which travels in swarms that darken the air, accompanied by flyers that leisurely feast on them.
Marine invertebrates include the drifting gorgon with its mesh of lethal streamers. The big polypus has no definite number of tentacles, for injury causes more than one new one to sprout. When it has grown inconveniently many, the animal develops a second head and set of interior organs, and fissions into two—an alternative to its usual sexual reproduction. Biologists are fascinated by the problem of how this is possible in something of that size and complexity.
Besides male-female sexuality and paired eyes, parallel evolution has produced Cleopatran vertebrates which, like the Terrestrial, have just four true limbs.
Piscoids include the great, sleek, swift, carnivorous pirate and the miter-headed, grotesquely ululating sea preacher. Among marine sauroids is the macrotrach, remarkably similar in appearance to the ancient plesiosaur.
The land is dominated by sauroids. Many of them are more highly developed than any Terrestrial reptile, having efficient hearts, giving live birth and caring for their young, even showing an almost mammalian capacity to learn by experience. This is probably due to the fact that, on generally warmer Cleopatra, being homeothermic (“warm-blooded”) confers less relative advantage than on Earth; there do not seem ever to have been any glacial periods. Thus poikilothermic (“coldblooded”) animals have had more chance to flourish and evolve new capabilities.
The best-known ones include: the hipposaur, a hoofed grazer of plains and mountains, as big as a big horse; the king gator, a dry-land carnivore with long legs but otherwise rather crocodilian; the hoplite, a two-meter-wide walking dome of bony armor and spiky tail; the faber, eerily caricaturing humanity in appearance and certain behavior patterns; and the huge-winged flying deltasoar.
The homeothermic beasts remain primitive. They have hair, whose possible colors include a bright green, but no mammary glands. Most young are born with full sets of teeth, immediately able to eat the same as the parents. Where this is not the case, feeding is by regurgitation. Thus even some ground-dwelling animals have beaks rather than snouts, and none have lips.
They are furthest developed in the aerial forms, the ptenoids or pseudobirds. Though none of these quite compare to Terrestrial avians in capabilities, they number some handsome species, like the colorfully plumed jackadandy. The rich-furred (not feathered) flier and diver known as the cinnamon bat is, however, a theroid.
No theroid is very large. A common forest dweller is the tree spook, suggestive of a parrot-billed lemur. On one continent, the carnivorous hootinanny runs in packs which make hideous loud noises in their throat pouches to stampede the prolific herbivorous jumping Toms; both species are rabbitsized. In arctic regions, the snow snake has shed legs and belly fur in order to go more effectively after its own burrowing prey; with its white pelt everywhere else on the body and its affectionate ways, it makes an excellent pet. Of course, this is only a partial list.
In fact, all these remarks are quite superficial and incomplete. Any planet is a wo
rld, and therefore inexhaustible.
POUL ANDERSON AND GORDON R. DICKSON
The Sheriff of
Canyon Gulch
It had been a very near thing. Alexander Jones spent several minutes enjoying the simple pleasure of still being alive.
Then he looked around.
It could almost have been Earth—almost, indeed, his own North America. He stood on a great prairie whose dun grasses rolled away beneath a high windy sky. A flock of birds, alarmed by his descent, clamored upward; they were not so very different from the birds he knew. A line of trees marked the river, a dying puff of steam the final berth of his scoutboat. In the hazy eastern distance he saw dim blue hills. Beyond those, he knew, were the mountains, and then the enormous dark forests, and finally the sea near which the Draco lay. A hell of a long ways to travel.
Nevertheless, he was uninjured, and on a planet almost the twin of his own. The air, gravity, biochemistry, the late-afternoon sun, could only be told from those of home with sensitive instruments. The rotational period was approximately 24 hours, the sidereal year nearly 12 months, the axial tilt a neat but not gaudy 11½ degrees. The fact that two small moons were in the sky and a third lurking somewhere else, that the continental outlines were an alien scrawl, that a snake coiled on a nearby rock had wings, that he was about five hundred light-years from the Solar System—all this was mere detail. The veriest bagatelle. Alex laughed at it.
The noise jarred so loud in this emptiness that he decided a decorous silence was more appropriate to his status as an officer and, by Act of Parliament as ratified locally by the
