I had noted from the start that this fellow spoke English with more difficulty than did Sa Dak. His was an English that had been learned book-wise and he spoke haltingly as he carefully picked each word. Sa Dak’s mastery of the language was different. With perfect ease he used our idioms and slang expressions, and never seemed at a loss for a word.
Sa Dak reappeared shortly. He had changed his clothing and was dressed in a suit of white linen. The earthly clothing could not hide the beauty of his superb body with its easy natural grace. Instead it made him look taller, more massive, and more outstanding.
“The suit I took from your cabin was too small, unfortunately,” he said, “but it had to do until I reached a store where they could fit me properly. This is the only suit they had that fitted me without alteration.”
I wondered how he had managed to walk around the streets of New York without attracting a crowd, but then New York was accustomed to all sorts of strange people on its streets.
“Yes,” remarked the man, “I did cause a stir. Of course, I had painted my skin to a semblance of white, and in the first pawnshop I came to, I sold several jewels to obtain money with which I purchased a pair of dark glasses to hide my eyes. But my size continued to attract attention, and several people made remarks about the circus in town.” He laughed at the memory.
I could not quite accustom myself to the fact that this man could read my thoughts. From the first I had noticed that he had been aware of what passed through my mind. It was unnecessary for me to as much as ask a question; he answered before I voiced my question. Even now he was explaining:
“Reading another’s mind is merely a science, my good sir. Your world is coming to it. The difficulty in my world is in keeping the other fellow from reading your mind. My friend here,” and he pointed to Tor, “as well as my servant, have no trouble in reading what passes through your brain. I have had much pleasure in learning your reactions to us, but let me explain that human nature is much the same the Universe over, and any man of Abrui would react exactly as you have done under similar conditions.”
His words made me rather uncomfortable, but the look in the smiling lavender eyes comforted me.
The Old Scientist
“AND now, sir,” he went on, “would you care to accompany me on my little visit? I feel that I owe you some recompense for detaining you as my prisoner. Perhaps you will be interested in what is to come. The person we are visiting is Professor Ezra Rollins, a scientist that should hold the highest place amongst your great men, but he prefers to end his days in this deserted spot. Shall we go?”
I gladly accompanied him, my broken bone now completely forgotten.
My idea of how we had entered this craft was that we had come in through its glass walls. My kindly host now pressed a small lever that was fitted on his desk top. To my surprise a doorway opened where there had been naught visible but a blank wall. The door was simply a large square section which slid outward and now rested on the grass outside. “There are forty layers of glass here,” explained Sa Dak. “Our glass, unlike earthly glass, is almost unbreakable, yet I do not like to take a chance on the possibility of a crack, hence the thickness, made up of plates set in layers, one over the other to several of your feet.”
“No wonder I could not throw a stone through it,” I laughed.
He grinned. “You gave us quite a bit of merriment in your attempts.”
We walked over to the compound of the bungalow. Dogs were howling from their kennels, but none came to stay our progress to the front door. A cool night breeze was stirring. Somewhere off in the distance we heard a lion roar. Sa Dak knocked on the house door.
We heard the shuffle of feet. “What is it?” asked a querulous old voice.
“One who comes with a message.”
“Then kindly come in.”
The door was opened and I followed the silver man into a cosy little room, a much-lived-in room. A lighted lamp was on the table; the Professor had been reading. He was a little old man with the high smooth forehead of the savant, but his eyes were burned-out lights.
“It is a late hour to be calling, sir,” said Sa Dak. “We saw your light and concluded you were awake.”
The old man shrugged his shoulders. “I can not sleep. I can only wait.”
“For a message?”
The old eyes brightened, then saddened again. “A message that can never come. I was once a scientist; but I committed the crime of sending two men to their death. That deed awakes the dormant man within me, and awake now, I can never sleep again . . .”
; “Yet a message would change all that!”
“No message has come.”
“I bring such a message, Professor Ezra Rollins.”
“You mean . . . why who are you? I . . . I. . . .”
“I come from those two, sir, from Dana Gleason and Richard Dorr . . .”
I have never seen a face and body change as did the wrinkled, weary face and stooping body before us. He was suddenly taller, younger. In a half a dozen steps he was across the room at a door through which we could see a flight of steps. “Elsie, Elsie,” he cried. They are safe! D’y’understand? They landed on Mars!!”
THERE was movement in the room above our heads. The Professor turned to us again. For the first time he seemed to note the strange appearance of his nocturnal guest. “Did you, too, come from Mars?” he questioned almost fearfully.
The Abruian shook his head. “No, Professor, not from Mars, but from . . .”
He didn’t finish his sentence, for the old man had fainted away before the sentence was completed.
The big man was on his knees by the Professor’s side. He picked him up as easily as if he were a child and laid him tenderly on a divan close at hand. Then we were aware of a slender girlish form that had entered the room and rushed to the old man. “What have you done? What have you done?” she moaned. “You have killed my uncle!”
“He has only fainted. His heart is weak, and I erred in not speaking more carefully. Water, please!” His calm voice reassured her and she hurried for a glass of water; but the Professor was already recovering. Tears commenced to flow down his cheeks. The other hastened to speak. “I am sorry, sir. I broached my subject poorly. Dana Gleason and Richard Dorr live, but the planet they reached was a more distant one than the planet you call Mars. They are both well and happy, and asked that I come to you with their message.”
The tears halted. “I should have realized, naturally . . . you spoke of a message. I . . . I . . . can not stand too much excitement. Ah . . . the message . . . you have it?”
The manuscript was brought forth. Quickly Rollins was scanning the pages. “Ah, Dana’s handwriting. Thank God, they are safe!”
He fumbled for his glasses and putting them on his nose, began to read. The girl with the glass of water still in her hand stood beyond the table. She was holding her dressing gown at her throat. I saw then that she was not so young as I at first imagined. Obviously, she had already passed her twenties; the bloom of her youth was gone, given without thought of self to the service of the old scientist. She was Elsie Rollins, niece of the professor. It is to her I owe the story of all that had gone before this date. When years had passed, she came to me in New York to help me in this work, and so together we compiled this record, giving facts and descriptions as we remembered them.
Professor Ezra Rollins had been a world famous figure not so many years before. When he let it be known that he was working on a vehicle that could carry a man to the moon; or better still, to our sister planet, Mars, he had been ridiculed until, in disgust, he left the college where he had held the scientific research chair, and had come to Africa to work unmolested by reporters, who had interviewed him only to laugh at him.
With him had come his several disciples who believed fervently in his theory. A mechanical engineer and a world renowned astronomer had joined him in his retreat, and for almost twenty years they had worked together over the plans, until at last the giganti
c rocket that they were to shoot to Mars was ready. All that was needed was the man who would undertake the journey. It required a man of great daring and courage, a man who would be willing to sacrifice everything, even his life, in the hazardous feat. It needed a young man, a man of learning, an extraordinary man.
For two years Rollins had roamed through the cities looking for his subject, as he may be called, and at last he found him, a youth whose life’s training seemed to have fitted him for this very deed. Dana Gleason, Jr., had finished in the War with great honor, but now he was at loose ends, bereaved of his father, with no friend, and a family of which he knew no member. He had done everything that man could do on the planet Earth, and he had become undeniably bored with life thereon.
Gleason did not jump at the chance to go to Mars. At first he thought the scientist was crazy. When he realized that he was in an extremely sane state of mind, that all plans had been developed, and that the rocket was there and ready, he agreed to consider the suggestion; and he considered it as soberly as such a proposition could be considered. He accepted the Professor’s invitation. He waited only long enough to make a will and straighten up all his earthly affairs; thenceforth he was in Rollins’ keeping.
Getting Ready for the Trip
IT WAS seven months before the rocket was to be shot into Space, for then Mars would be in perfect conjunction with Earth for the experiment. In that time Rollins taught the brave youngster of twenty-six years all he would have to know on landing on the red planet. Once there, he was to set to work to build a gigantic radio, a replica of the one which was stored in the attic of the Rollins bungalow, and broadcast his find to Earth. Then if he discovered intelligent beings on the planet, which was a probability, he was, with their aid, to get himself shot back to Earth!
Miss Rollins described Dana Gleason as being a slender young chap about five feet seven inches in height, with dark chestnut hair, brown eyes that were almost black and a fair complexion, regular features that were almost girlish except for a masculinity developed by the full life of a globe-trotter. He was a quiet person, little given to talking, with a throaty but well-trained voice. Only in anger would he become eloquent, and then his tones were rich, though not very deep. He seemed rather temperamental, given to moods that were affected by the elements—rain made him dreamy; storms excited him, bringing color to his cheeks; but the sun left him a quiet and serious person. When he spoke of his proposed journey in the rocket his eyes sparkled and glowed. On horseback he would roam for hours on the veld, and though he enjoyed the chase he seldom bagged any game. He was witty with a somewhat satirical turn to his humor.
He spent much of his time reading the heavy volumes that the Professor gave him, and he had a lively interest in the mechanics of the rocket. He made friends readily with the workers and scientists, asking questions, learning facts. His thirst for knowledge of all things was extraordinary. He would go on long walks with one of his new friends, or sit relating to them some of his own experiences, though he was never one to brag. And he never spoke of his wealth. His bearing with servants was such that he was greatly beloved by them. However, he never made any overtures of friendship to Elsie Rollins, preferring rather the society of men. He showed that he appreciated the fact that the girl had set him on a pedestal and admired him, and his attitude to her was one of consideration, but during the seven months of his sojourn on the veld, she was never one of his intimates. He had great respect for Professor Rollins and they became as true friends as the disparity in age would permit. He had one friend to whom he appeared to be drawn on sight. That one was Richard Dorr.
Richard Dorr was practically the only neighbor that the Rollinses had, aside from the inhabitants of the few native villages here and there. He was by profession a mining engineer, and somewhere in the hills was his gold mine, but on his word it was a poor sort, and he did not seem to spend much time there. With him had come the rumor of an affaire de cceur that had not gone well, and one could wonder, having seen him, how any woman could give him up.
He was tall above the average, broad of shoulder and graceful of limb, strong and powerful, with the face of a viking. His blue eyes were accustomed to looking over great distances. His hair was the color of old copper and crinkled and shone in the sun. His skin had been tanned nearly to the shade of his hair, so that he looked almost as if he had been cast out of reddish metal. He was a great humanitarian, and it was known that he was doing a lot to help the natives of Africa find themselves. All the servants within the Rollins’ compound adored him. Out in the world he might have become a great leader of men.
At first he paid little attention to young Gleason. He noticed him no more than he noticed the other men around him. He and Professor Rollins were staunch friends and could sit for hours discussing the rocket around which the latter’s life revolved. Dorr had given many valuable suggestions for it, and had been at hand to help during the casting of parts that could not be obtained in any market. He had known and played with Elsie since she came to the veld at the age of ten when both her father and mother died. She had seen the friendship grow up between Gleason and Dorr, and noted the many hours they were together.
Many evenings were spent in the little sitting room of the bungalow, with the three men reading and talking, while the girl sat in her corner mending and embroidering. Secretly she was initialing all of Gleason’s handkerchiefs and shirts. Often the four sat down to a game of bridge. One night she surprised an expression she could not fathom on the face of Dorr as she sat studying the absorbed face of Dana Gleason sitting there reading one of the Professor’s heavy tomes. It was an expression that she could not interpret and it puzzled her for many a day.
Then Dorr’s visits became less and less frequent and days passed before they would hear the beat of his horse’s hoofs across the veld. His absences were noted. Once a time intervened and a boy was sent to learn if he were sick. He returned with the answer that he was merely busy. And when he came, there was an evident surliness.
The time drew near for the departure. One evening Rollins faced Gleason. “In just six days, my boy, you shall go!” he told him, and Rollins’ eyes shone brightly. There was no change of expression on the youth’s face; there was only a new glitter in his eyes.
A messenger was dispatched to Dorr to apprise him of the fact. He came that night, and a quiet evening was spent. Not until he was ready to leave did he speak directly to Gleason. The Professor had gone into the kitchen for a glass of water; Miss Rollins was seated in the shadows, unnoticed.
“So you are going through with this?” Dorr had suddenly demanded of Gleason.
The other looked up in surprise. Then he straightened and got to his feet. “And what reason have you to believe that I should not?” he asked coldly.
“I had, or rather thought I had a reason, Dana Gleason, but I see now that I was wrong.” And without another word he had gone out of the door. Rollins returned surprised that he had gone without a word of farewell.
This is an opportune moment to speak of the great vehicle that was to carry the youth on his way. Miss Rollins has described it to me and tried to make me understand the principle by which it worked. As I said before, I am a layman and have little knowledge of machinery.
The Great Invention
THE machine was a great cylindrical thing eight hundred feet long and about fifty feet in diameter. Its walls were very thick and its nose was pierced through with great springs. It was of smooth steel and the only things to break its surface were four great windows, many inches in thickness, set in its girdle.
Within was a space hermetically sealed, in which were the living-rooms for the traveler. These were slung on springs which were set in slides in such a manner as to keep the chambers within on an even keel no matter how the shell might twist and turn. From the living quarters a passage led to the great windows, where small cells were provided for the observer. The living room was no larger than an ordinary chamber, fifteen feet by ten, and only seven
feet high. The reason for the low ceiling was that once outside of Earth’s power, there would be no gravity, and the inmate of the room would find himself without weight, perhaps floating about the room. By pushing against the ceiling he could draw and push himself about. For the same reason rails were set around the room at convenient heights, and the floor, walls, and ceiling were heavily padded. Chairs, table, and cupboards were all fastened to the floor, and a low padded seat the width of a bed ran around the entire chamber. Here the voyager would sleep. Pillows and coverlets were stored in the cupboards beneath the seat.
Beyond the living room was a small kitchen wherein was installed an electric stove, an iceless refrigerator, a cupboard for dishes, and a small sink. Food, in a concentrated form, and water were provided to last for almost a year’s time. There was also a goodly supply of fresh foods. The rocket carried its own dynamo with sufficient battery to keep it running for several months. For the purification of the air, the same device that is used in submarines, which renews the air by absorbing the carbon dioxide by soda-lime, and purifying the air chemically was used. There were also tanks of fresh oxygen provided and by opening a valve this could be let into the room. Oxygen masks and portable cylinders were also stored, to be used if the traveler found he could not breath the air of the alien planet. Adjoining the living quarters was the bathroom with all its necessary fixtures; the medicine chest was stored with innumerable tubes of tooth paste, powders, soaps, et cetera, together with medicines for first aid. Nothing, Miss Rollins said, was missing. Below was stored a small dismounted airplane to be put together for use in an emergency.
The machinery that was to keep the rocket moving was set in the stern. Once released, powder was to be shot off automatically, causing explosions which furnished its source of power.[1]
The hour came. For the two preceding days the house, laboratory, and compound seethed with activity, and last minute preparations were made. Everyone was too excited to think, but Elsie Rollins continued to wonder why Richard Dorr had not made his appearance since the night he had spoken to Gleason so strangely.
Collected Tales (Jerry eBooks) Page 12
