thenative settlement a half-mile down the coast, and the cabin lights ofthe _Seven Seas_.
"What will we do now?" Carol tried to sound unconcerned, but her voicesounded thin and wavering.
"I don't know what we can do, except wait until daybreak. I'm sure wecan get a signal out then," Bill replied, calmly as he could. He hopedshe couldn't hear the pounding of his heart.
"What about the dog?" she asked. "Will it be all right there? Should webring it aboard?"
"We better leave everything untouched. Our best bet is to get some sleepand place our call as soon as day breaks."
Neither of them could eat much supper and after putting the dishesaway, they made up their bunks and climbed in. After a very few minutes,Bill handed a lighted cigarette across the narrow chasm between thebunks.
"I can't sleep. My head is spinning. Do you really believe that's whatwe've found?" Carol's voice sounded small.
"Yes, I do. I believe we've found the Russian ejection unit, completewith the dog Laika and instrumentation."
They lay quietly, the glow of two cigarettes occasionally reflecting onthe bulkhead. Bill finally arose.
"I can't think of another thing but what's sitting out there on LittleHarbor Cay!" He walked up to the main cabin and switched on the RDF. Fora few minutes there was music, and then:
"Flash! The United States Government has just officially released thenews that at 10:09 p.m. Eastern Standard Time the U. S. Satelliteejection chamber was successfully returned to earth at the designatedlocation. This was some six hours earlier than expected. The chamber,into which Robert Joy voluntarily had himself strapped, has landed at anundisclosed site and is being raced under heavy guard to the Walter ReedHospital at Washington, D. C. There is no hope that Joy is still living.Word has just been released by Dr. James R. Killian that instrumentsmeasuring Joy's pulse rate indicated three days ago that all Joy'sbodily processes ceased to function at that time. We repeat, all hope ofthe survival of Robert Joy is now abandoned as the result of scientificdata just released by Dr. Killian.
"The satellite is being brought intact to Walter Reed Hospital andleading physiologists and scientists are racing to the scene to be onhand for the opening of the unit scheduled for 6 a.m. tomorrow morning.Further reports will be given as received. This station will remain onthe air all night. Stay tuned for further developments. We repeat, theU. S. satellite's ejection chamber, containing the first human beingever to go into space, has been successfully returned to earth aspredicted, though all hope has been abandoned for the survival of RobertJoy, the man in the moon. The chamber will be opened for scientificstudy tomorrow morning. Stay tuned for further news."
Bill tuned down the music that ensued and returned to his bunk. "Youheard that, Carol?" He knew she wasn't asleep.
"Yes. And it makes this whole thing that we've found seem moreplausible. I've been lying here trying to make myself believe it's somesort of dream, but it isn't. If we could only ..." Carol's voice fadedsoftly into the night.
There was absolutely nothing they could do. Nothing but lie there andsmoke and pretend to sleep. They didn't talk much, and keenly felt theterrible frustration of their enforced silence on the ship-to-shore.They heard several more news reports and several analyses of the news,but nothing new was added throughout the night. The radio onlyreiterated that the ejection unit had been recovered, that hope hadfaded for Joy's survival and that the chamber was to be opened in themorning as soon as scientists had convened in Washington.
* * * * *
Dawn, long in coming, broke about 4:30. With the lifting of the dark,the sun spots which interfered with radio reception miraculously liftedalso. Bill and Carol sat next to the ship-to-shore and turned it on.This time they heard the reassuring hum of the transmitter, not drownedout by the awful static of the night before. Bill switched to the CoastGuard channel.
"May Day. May Day. This is the _Seven Seas_ calling the United StatesCoast Guard. Come in please!"
And a voice, almost miraculously, answered, "This is the U. S. CoastGuard. Come in _Seven Seas_. What is your position? Come in _SevenSeas_."
"This is the yacht _Seven Seas_ back to the Coast Guard. We are locatedat the Berry Islands at Little Harbor Cay. We want to report thediscovery of what we believe to be the second Russian satellite."
"This is the Coast Guard to the _Seven Seas_. Do we read you correctly?Are you reporting discovery of the Russian satellite? Please clarify.Over." A stern voice crackled through the speaker.
"Last evening on entering the harbor here we saw an object fall to theground. On inspection, it was a metal box which was broken apart onimpact. In it are electronic equipment and the body of a small dog.Over." Bill tried to be calm and succinct.
"Coast Guard to _Seven Seas_. Is your boat in distress? Over."
"No, no! Did you read me about the Russian satellite?" asked Bill,impatience in his voice.
"Will you state your name and address. Will you state the master's fullname, and the call letters and registration of your craft. Over,"crackled the voice from the speaker.
"Oh my lord, we're not going to have red tape at a time like this, arewe?" Carol asked exasperatedly.
"This is Bill Anderson of Ft. Lauderdale, owner and skipper. Our callletters are William George 3176, Coast Guard registration #235-46-5483.What are your instructions regarding dog satellite?"
"Please stand by."
Bill and Carol stared at each other while the voice on the radio wassilent.
"This is the United States Coast Guard calling the yacht _Seven Seas_."
"_Seven Seas_ standing by."
"We wish to remind you that it is illegal and punishable by fine and orimprisonment to issue false reports to the Coast Guard. We areinvestigating your report and wish you to stand by."
"Investigating our report?" Bill fairly shouted into the phone. "GoodGod, man! The thing to investigate is _here_, laying in three pieces onthe middle of Little Harbor Cay. This is no joke." Despite the emotionin Bill's voice, the answer came back routine and cold, "Please standby. We will call you. Do not, we repeat, do not make further contactanywhere. Please stand by. Coast Guard standing by with the _SevenSeas_."
"_Seven Seas_ standing by," shouted Bill, almost apoplectic, his facereddening in anger.
"Now what? It looks like they're going to take their time in believingus. At least until they find out who we are and if we're really here,"said Carol.
Bill paced the deck in frustration. Suddenly he decided, "Carol, youstick with the radio. I'm going ashore again and take another look atour Muttnik. It seems so incredible that I'm not even sure of what I sawlast night. Once they believe us they'll want to know as much about itas we can tell them." Bill hurriedly put on his swim suit and heardCarol shout as he dove overboard, "Hurry back, Bill. I don't like youleaving me here alone!"
Bill swam with sure even strokes to the shore where they had gone lastnight. The water felt cool. It soothed his nerves which jangled in theexcitement of the discovery and in the anger at the disbelievingauthorities. He reached shallow water and waded towards shore.
Suddenly he stopped dead, his ankles in five inches of water. His eyesstared ahead in disbelief. His brain was numbed. Only his eyes werealive, staring, wide in horror. Finally his brain pieced together theimage that his vision sent to it. Pieced it together but made nocomprehension of it.
His brain told him that there was a blanket of fur laying unevenlytwenty feet back from the shore line. A blanket of yellow and blackfur ... covering the earth, covering mangrove roots, fitted neatlyaround the bent palm tree trunks, lying over the rocks that had cuthis feet last night ... smothering, suffocating ... hugging the earth.
Bill shut his eyes, and still the vision kept shooting to his brain. Allyellow and black and fuzzy, with trees or a tall mangrove bush or a seagrape vine sticking up here and there.
He opened his eyes and wanted to run, for the scene was still there. Ithadn't disappeared as a nightmare disappears when you wake
up. Thickyellow and black fur lay on the ground like dirty snow. Coveringeverything low, hugging the base of taller things.
"Run!" his mind told him. Yet he stood rooted to the spot, staring atthe carpet of fur near him. It was only ten feet away. Ten feet? Hisevery muscle jumped. The lock that had held his muscles and brain in atight vice gave loose and a flood of realization hit him. "It's moving!"he realized in horror. "It's growing!"
* * * * *
As he watched, slowly, slowly, as the petals of a morning glory unfoldbefore the eye, the yellow and black fur carpet stretched itself inever-increasing perimeter.
He saw it approach a
The Day of the Dog Page 2
