The rocket had been slung long since on the giant catapult that would shoot it off, and there was much climbing of the ladder and last inspection. Only newspaper reporters were missing. Then there was supper, when all the mechanics, helpers, engineers, and scientists gathered together for the last time to pay homage to the valiant youth who was putting his life into the care of the God of the Void. Toasts were drunk to success, to the Professor, to one and all. It was a very quiet meal, though the Professor was in high spirits and there was a slight flush on the cheek of Dana Gleason.
The meal came to an end and Gleason retired to his sleeping room to gather his last personal effects. Miss Rollins had seen to it that his linen, his socks, and his handkerchiefs were all ready. He was also taking several suits of khaki. The last thing he did before leaving the bungalow was to stuff his pockets full of chocolate and cigarets, though several large cases were stored in the rocket. A number of cases of whiskey for stimulant and medicinal purposes were also provided.
It was just about time to start. The rocket was to be shot at exactly twenty-two and a half minutes after eight o’clock. How long the trip would take was not certain. Professor Rollins judged it would take about seven weeks. Of course, he had experimented with miniature rockets in a vacuum, but how fast the giant rocket would travel was conjectural.
There were the farewells, the last bits of advice were being given, the last round of handshaking was going on. Gleason leaned over and kissed Elsie Rollins’ cheek gently and then he was climbing the ladder with the Professor, who had one more word to say. And so Dana Gleason, Jr., disappeared from the sight of men into the aerial vehicle. Rollins went in but reappeared in a few minutes and started his way down the ladder.
Then came the unexpected. All were too engrossed with the leave-taking to hear the beat of horses’ hoofs and none was aware of Richard Dorr’s arrival, until he had his hands on the ladder. In his hurry and excitement, he almost threw Rollins off his balance. Already Gleason was drawing to the great door, fitting in its socket like the breach-block of a cannon, when Dorr slipped within.
For another minute the door stood open, then slowly and ponderously it closed—just at the moment that Professor Rollins placed his hand on the release lever. It is doubtful whether, in the high tension of that moment, he realized that a second passenger was on his way to Mars!
There was a deafening explosion, the force of which sent large pieces of machinery flying through the air, killing two mechanics, wounding several others, and all but killing the Professor. He was knocked unconscious and did not recover for many minutes, so that he was not an eyewitness to that awful departure.
PROFESSOR ROLLINS now looked up from his study of the manuscript the silver man had brought him. His face was screwed up into a grimace such as a child would make, his mouth trembling. “But . . . but this contains nothing but facts about this unknown planet,” he muttered.
“Yes,” said Sa Dak, “Dana Gleason has made a worthy survey of the planet. I find it complete.”
“That is all right for the universities, but that isn’t what I want, man. I want Dana’s own story. What happened? What happened?”
The other smiled gently. “That is all there is, sir.” Tears came to the eyes of the old man. “And I want more. I want facts. I must know just what occurred, everything that took place, the story, the story. . . .” He looked up helplessly. “You say they are well and happy. How did they find this happiness and contentment?”
“It is a long story, sir.”
“You know it then? You will tell me? You were an eyewitness?”
“Yes, I was an eyewitness. And since you insist, sir, I shall do my best. In my desk I have the diary of Dana Gleason; that may interest you. Will you accompany me to my machine, sir, or shall I bring it here?”
“We will go with you, only let’s hurry!” cried the old man in his excitement.
“And you, Miss Rollins?” inquired Sa Dak.
She nodded, then remembering that she was not dressed for outdoors, asked that we wait a moment. She returned very soon, with a light coat on. We went to the Yodverl, whose glass surface was aglow with its inner lights.
My host and the Professor walked ahead. Miss Rollins and I followed. Sa Dak was trying to direct the eye of the scientist to the construction of the great vehicle modeled after the Professor’s invention, but the old man paid no attention; he was intent on hearing the story. I told Miss Rollins something of my abduction, and she told me a little more of what had preceded that astounding departure. Soon we entered the vehicle.
Tor was there to greet us. Sa Dak explained why we were there, and then he turned to us. “Now,” he said, “if you will accompany me through the vehicle I can demonstrate to you some of the devices which Dana Gleason and Richard Dorr found in use on Abrui. That will make the telling of the story easier for me.”
The House of a “Neighbor”
I WAS beginning to feel a little weak on account of my shoulder, but, forcing it from my mind, I followed the little party. We went into the room in which I first found myself. “This,” said our host, “is called the ‘atol’ or main living room of the Abruian home. Here is where the family gather to eat their meals and discuss the day’s events. Here they greet their friends, here they start the day with their morning swim. The lowliest home possesses its swimming pool, its potted flowers, its scenic walls. The scene you see depicted here is typical of Abruin scenery.
“In arranging the rooms in my rocket, I have tried to reproduce exactly my home in Abrui,” he continued as he led us to the next room, which proved to be a small reproduction of the first room, with a smaller pool, and fewer flowers. There were four small doorways, two in either wall, leading to bedrooms. The scene on the walls was that of a garden. A group of two or three women were seated on low stone benches under the shade of some low trees, and a short distance away, two men were practicing some knife play, each holding a short dagger in either hand with which he attempted to break through the other’s guard. On another wall several children were seated in a circle, with the markers of some strange game in their hands. A golden slave-girl stood near by with a silver baby in her arms. A game of tag, played by youths of about fifteen or sixteen, was in progress among some shrubberies. Another slave was working in a flower bed. It was a happy life-like scene and the reproductions of the people of Abrui were very fine. I noticed that the costume worn by the women was exactly like that worn by Tor, while the children wore suits of the same style, somewhat abbreviated. One of the women wore a long flowing cape that fastened to the shoulder and reached to the ground. The colors used were of every shade and hue and some were unknown to us. The light that shone over everything was rosy and seemed to come from the overlarge pinkish globe that I had seen painted in the Atol, and had objected to. It was in truth the second sun of Abrui!
“This room,” said Sa Dak, “is called the ‘cof’, and is the inner room of the house. Here is one of the bedrooms,” and he brushed aside the curtains of one of the small doorways, revealing a small cell-like chamber furnished simply with a wide couch, a chair, a chest of drawers, and a long mirror. “In these rooms the family sleep, but this chamber is sacred to the women of the house. Here they come when not disposed to mingle with their friends, and only the family are allowed entrance. Here the mistress of the house carries on her affairs and directs the welfare of her house.”
The next room we were informed was the kitchen, though at first glance it was no more than a small chamber with the walls of opaque glass. However, by touching a small lever close to the doorway, it was transformed. The glass covering opened out, revealing shelf after shelf containing various dishes. On one side was a glass-enclosed refrigerator and we could see the array of food placed within. All around the room projected a piece of smooth glass about two feet into the room. This could be utilized for the table. I saw neither stove nor any other means for cooking.
We were enlightened, however. Removing a small dish made of glass
from one of the shelves, our host took from the refrigerator (which I call by that name, although there was no visible means for the preservation of food) a strange vegetable about the size of a grapefruit. This he dropped into the glass dish he held in his hand. Immediately before our eyes a change took place. The food began to cook! We saw it soften, its juices run, and a delicious odor filled the room. In less than five minutes the vegetable was entirely cooked. Taking three small metal plates from another cupboard, our host then served the vegetable on the plates, cutting it with a knife of glass. Tor went for three spoon-like articles that had tiny prongs on their tips somewhat like our ice-cream forks at home. The vegetable was quite good.
TAKING another glass dish, the man poured into it some milk from a metal container and dropping into it several small pellets, he stirred it well, while we watched the process that was taking place. The milk had begun to freeze! When we ate it we found it was somewhat like ice cream, flavored with something that tasted like sweetened cinnamon.
We all marveled over these utensils, and our host went on to explain that the “cooking dishes” were treated with a solution derived from radium, which caused the food placed within to cook immediately. It was the same for the “freezing dishes.” Only the inside of the dishes were treated, so that it was possible to hold them in one’s hand while the change was taking place. The inside of the “refrigerator” had been treated in a similar way, but to a less degree than the dishes, so that foods could be kept indefinitely and still be edible. Haw my wife, who is quite a cook, would have envied such cooking methods!
“I shall now show you our ‘stable,’ ” went on Sa Dak, and led us to a small chamber. Like the others, it was scrupulously clean. A low manger was arranged in one wall, and there were four of the prettiest little creatures I have ever seen. They were somewhat smaller than our cows, standing no more than three feet high, and looked somewhat like deer, with soft liquid eyes and faces that were dog-like. One was a “bull” while two had the large, developed udders of a cow. The fourth creature was no more than a calf.
“These are called muti. The little one there was born since leaving Abrui!”
The little creatures had looked up at our entrance, and in their eyes was an expression of intelligence that is never seen in the eyes of earthly cattle. Their master made some soft sounds in his throat, and there was response from the bull, who made a like sound. For a minute or two they continued and it almost seemed as if they were actually talking. “Yes,” went on the man, “we have discovered the language of our beasts and make it a practice to converse with them!”
We showed our astonishment.
“And why not?” he continued. “Why should animals lie denied the right of speech? Naturally, their intelligence is not equal to the thinking mind of man, but it is far better that they understand what is expected of them.”
“How can you kill them then? It seems horrible to me to think of eating their flesh,” observed Elsie Rollins.
The man smiled. “We do not eat their flesh, Miss Rollins! That is, civilized man does not. We know that fruits and vegetables are quite as strength-giving as meat. No, our muti are raised only for the milk they give. And when that supply is gone the animal is simply done away with in a manner that gives no pain. They know this, and understand that we treat them no differently than we treat ourselves!”
“You mean that when age comes you kill the old?”
“Is not that the better way? The aged are only a burden to themselves as well as to others. Their value to the state is nil. Only we do not kill! We go to sleep. We have discovered a ray that destroys animal life, dissolving the compounds that make up our bodies. This ray turned upon us does away with the body completely, the chemical compounds returning to their former state. There is no pain, no suffering. Only a last sweet sleep.”
“And the soul?”
“Goes to its appointed place. Of that we do not pretend to know anything.”
I could not but think how pleasant such an end would be. No suffering, no funeral, no grave, no tombstone.
“I would like to die that way,” sighed the Professor.
I saw that Elsie Rollins was trying to break the spell that these thoughts had wrapped about us. Our host was quick to see this, and he now suggested that we return to the Atol where we could comfortably discuss life on Abrui.
“You will notice,” he said, “that the ceilings of the rooms we have passed through are all of glass. It is so on Abrui. Every house is but one floor in height. The light from the two suns of the planet shines upon these roofs, giving daylight to the rooms. Again we use radium, which being a phosphorescent element, takes into itself the sunlight thus distributed, responds to it, and at night redispenses it, so that at all times we have an even glow of light. We find that people living under this light are greatly benefited. Disease is therefore completely done away with. It took many years to discover this use of radium, for radium in its raw state, as you must know, does bodily harm to anyone exposed to it. We also have the means of shutting this light off at will.”
We had now returned to the “living room.” The golden slave appeared, and was arranging several couches into a small circle, and we were invited to take our places there. Tor, the youth, had thrown himself on the floor on a pile of cushions, while our host drew up a chair that was standing near. My shoulder pained again and I appreciated the relief of repose.
At a word from his master the slave left the room and shortly returned, carrying a small black leather-bound book. Miss Rollins exclaimed: “The diary of Dana Gleason!” It was handed to her.
“Perhaps you will read a few of its entries for us; they may prove of interest,” said Sa Dak. She was already skimming the pages.
“Why here,” she said, “is the date on which Uncle Ezra first approached Dana with the proposition of his taking the trip to Mars!”
“Read it,” said the Professor. Since entering the Yodverl, Rollins seemed a different man. He had gotten a new interest. He seemed younger and brighter. He was happy, perhaps for the first time since that fateful night.
The young woman acquiesced and commenced to read in a clear voice.
The Diary
“TODAY fate came to me in the guise of Science. At first, when Professor Ezra Rollins spoke of a trip to Mars, I thought him crazed, yet as he talked, his face alight with the fire of his passion, I realized how earnest and intense he was. He left me with my mind in a whirl. Shall I take this one chance in a million? Can I do it? Would Dad have done it? Had the Professor only known me for what I am, he would never have come to me, but haven’t I proved myself equal to any man? Why can’t I do this?
“I am sure Dad would have done it and he would have expected me to do it. To remain here on Earth can mean but one thing for me—exposure. Howard Courtland will keep his promise, even though I put the world between us, and I, born of woman though I am, can not and will not give up the heritage my father has given me. No man shall force me to admit that I am a woman-thing even though I was born with the body of one. . . .”
Miss Rollins looked up in wonder. Her face had gone white as she read and a low groan from the Professor showed that he understood. “Dana Gleason, a woman!” The three of us exclaimed in one breath and turned to our host.
He smiled somewhat sadly and there was sorrow in his eyes. “True, I had forgotten that you believed Dana Gleason a man. I am not certain, but I believe her father hated women and was resolved to raise his daughter as a son. This Courtland of whom she speaks had discovered the truth and would have disclosed her secret, thinking he could make her his wife. Dana Gleason is an attractive woman.”
“A woman,” mused Miss Rollins, “then,” and her eyes brightened, “that explains many things I could never understand. Did . . . did Dick . . . Richard Dorr accompany her . . . knowing?”
“Yes, he knew.”
“Read, Elsie, read what happened aboard the rocket,” said the Professor impatiently.
“I do not f
eel quite right about reading this,” she said.
The silver man shrugged his shoulders. “Dana wrote the story of her own experiences, and I fear I could not do the tale justice. I am certain she would have no objection to your reading it.”
None of us thought to ask how he had obtained the little book.
Throwing aside her qualms, Miss Rollins hastily turned the page.
“Aboard the Rocket,” it read.
“Mars is due ahead and Earth is behind us. For the first time, Man has stepped into the great unexplored vacuity—Space. It takes time for one to collect one’s thoughts out here. Already forty-eight hours have passed and I can only now bring myself to write. Writing in this diary has become such a fixed habit with me, that to neglect it is like neglecting a dear friend.
“When I climbed the ladder for the last time I hardly expected what next took place, although I had looked for Richard Dorr among the friends that bade me goodbye. Six days before he had addressed me in an odd manner, believing that I, who had given my word, would back out before the moment of departure. I could not imagine what had made him think such a thing, knowing me as he did.
“The day had passed and at last I was ready to leave, forgetting Dorr entirely in my concern for the rocket. After a few more words and a warm hand clasp the Professor backed out, and I was ready to swing the great door that would seal me within, when suddenly Richard Dorr appeared at the aperture. In surprise I cried out for him to go back, for only a few minutes would elapse before I should be hurled on my way. Instead of obeying, he came toward me. ‘For God’s sake,’ I cried, ‘go, the minutes are precious.’ He still came on with a smile on his face. Then he had his hand on the door and made ready to push it to. ‘What are you doing?’ I demanded.
“ ‘I am going with you!’ he said quietly.
“I must have lost my head then, for I was commanding him to leave, even while I was fastening the bolts and pulling and adjusting the levers into place.
Collected Tales (Jerry eBooks) Page 13
