by Various
_One of the men rolled free and came lurching towardus._]
The Terrible Tentacles of L-472
_By Sewell Peaslee Wright_
It was a big mistake. I should not have done it. By birth, by instinct,by training, by habit, I am a man of action. Or I was. It is queer thatan old man cannot remember that he is no longer young.
[Sidenote: Commander John Hanson of the Special Patrol Service recordsanother of his thrilling interplanetary assignments.]
But it was a mistake for me to mention that I had recorded, for thearchives of the Council, the history of a certain activity of theSpecial Patrol--a bit of secret history[1] which may not be mentionedhere. Now they insist--by "they" I refer to the Chiefs of the SpecialPatrol Service--that I write of other achievements of the Service, otheradventures worthy of note.
[Footnote 1: Editors Note: "The Forgotten Planet" July 1930 issue ofAstounding Stories]
Perhaps that is the penalty of becoming old. From commander of the_Budi_, one of the greatest of the Special Patrol ships, to the dutiesof recording ancient history, for younger men to read and dream about.That is a shrewd blow to one's pride.
But if I can, in some small way, add luster to the record of my service,it will be a fitting task for a man grown old and gray in that service;work for hands too weak and palsied for sterner duties.
But I shall tell my stories in my own way; after all, they are mystories. And I shall tell the stories that appeal to me most. Theuniverse has had enough and too much of dry history; these shall beadventurous tales to make the blood of a young man who reads them run atrifle faster--and perhaps the blood of the old man who writes them.
This, the first, shall be the story of the star L-472. You know itto-day as Ibit, port-o'-call for interplanetary ships, and source ofocrite for the universe, but to me it will always be L-472, the world ofterrible tentacles.
* * * * *
My story begins nearly a hundred years ago--reckoned in terms of Earthtime, which is proper, since I am a native of Earth--when I was a youngman. I was sub-commander, at the time, of the _Kalid_, one of the earlyships of the Special Patrol.
We had been called to Zenia on special orders, and Commander Jamison,after an absence of some two hours, returned to the _Kalid_ with hisface shining, one of his rare smiles telling me in advance that he hadnews--and good news.
He hurried me up to the deserted navigating room and waved me to a seat.
"Hanson," he said. "I'm glad to be the first to congratulate you. Youare now Commander John Hanson, of the Special Patrol Ship _Kalid_!"
"Sir." I gasped, "do you mean--"
His smile broadened. From the breast pocket of the trim blue and silveruniform of our Service he drew a long, crackling paper.
"Your commission," he said. "I'm taking over the _Borelis_."
It was my turn to extend congratulations then; the _Borelis_ was thenewest and greatest ship of the Service. We shook hands, that ancientgesture of good-fellowship on Earth. But, as our hands unclasped,Jamison's face grew suddenly grave.
"I have more than this news for you, however," he said slowly. "You areto have a chance to earn your comet hardly."
* * * * *
I smiled broadly at the mention of the comet, the silver insignia, wornover the heart, that would mark my future rank as commander, replacingthe four-rayed star of a sub-commander which I wore now on my tunic.
"Tell me more, sir," I said confidently.
"You have heard of the Special Patrol Ship _Filanus_?" asked my latecommander gravely.
"Reported lost in space," I replied promptly.
"And the _Dorlos_?"
"Why--yes; she was at Base here at our last call," I said, searching hisface anxiously. "Peter Wilson was Second Officer on her--one of my bestfriends. Why do you ask about her, sir?"
"The _Dorlos_ is missing also," said Commander Jamison solemnly. "Bothof these ships were sent upon a particular mission. Neither of them hasreturned. It is concluded that some common fate has overtaken them. The_Kalid_, under your command, is commissioned to investigate thesedisappearances.
"You are not charged with the mission of these other ships; your ordersare to investigate their disappearance. The course, together with theofficial patrol orders, I shall hand you presently, but with them goverbal orders.
"You are to lay and keep the course designated, which will take you wellout of the beaten path to a small world which has not been explored,but which has been circumnavigated a number of times by various shipsremaining just outside the atmospheric envelope, and found to be withoutevidence of intelligent habitation. In other words, without cities,roads, canals, or other evidence of human handiwork or civilization.
* * * * *
"I believe your instructions give you some of this information, but notall of it. This world, unnamed because of its uninhabited condition, ischarted only as L-472. Your larger charts will show it, I am sure. Theatmosphere is reported to be breatheable by inhabitants of Earth andother beings having the same general requirements. Vegetation isreported as dense, covering the five continents of the world to theedges of the northern and southern polar caps, which are small.Topographically, the country is rugged in the extreme, with many peaks,apparently volcanic, but now inactive or extinct, on all of its fivelarge continents."
"And am I to land there, sir?" I asked eagerly.
"Your orders are very specific upon that point," said Commander Jamison."You are not to land until you have carefully and thoroughlyreconnoitered from above, at low altitude. You will exercise everypossible precaution. Your specific purpose is simply this: to determine,if possible, the fate of the other two ships, and report your findingsat once. The Chiefs of the Service will then consider the matter, andtake whatever action may seem advisable to them." Jamison rose to hisfeet and thrust out his hand in Earth's fine old salute of farewell.
"I must be going, Hanson," he said. "I wish this patrol were mineinstead of yours. You are a young man for such a responsibility."
"But," I replied, with the glowing confidence of youth, "I have theadvantage of having served under Commander Jamison!"
* * * * *
He smiled as we shook again, and shook his head.
"Discretion can be learned only by experience," he said. "But I wish yousuccess, Hanson; on this undertaking, and on many others. Supplies areon their way now; the crew will return from leave within the hour. Ayoung Zenian, name of Dival, I believe, is detailed to accompany you asscientific observer--purely unofficial capacity, of course. He has beenordered to report to you at once. You are to depart as soon as feasible:you know what that means. I believe that's all--Oh, yes! I had almostforgotten.
"Here, in this envelope, are your orders and your course, as well as allavailable data on L-472. In this little casket is--your comet, Hanson. Iknow you will wear it with honor!"
"Thank you, sir!" I said, a bit huskily. I saluted, and CommanderJamison acknowledged the gesture with stiff precision. Commander Jamisonalways had the reputation of being something of a martinet.
When he had left, I picked up the thin blue envelope he had left. Acrossthe face of the envelope, in the--to my mind--jagged and unbeautifulUniversal script, was my name, followed by the proud title: "_Commander,Special Patrol Ship Kalid._" My first orders!
There was a small oval box, of blue leather, with the silver crest ofthe Service in bas-relief on the lid. I opened the case, and gazed withshining eyes at the gleaming, silver comet that nestled there.
Then, slowly, I unfastened the four-rayed star on my left breast, andplaced in its stead the insignia of my commandership.
Worn smooth and shiny now, it is still my most precious possession.
* * * * *
Kincaide, my second officer, turned and smiled as I entered thenavigating room.
"L-472 now registers maximum attraction, sir,"
he reported. "Dead ahead,and coming up nicely. My last figures, completed about five minutesago, indicate that we should reach the gaseous envelope in about tenhours." Kincaide was a native of Earth, and we commonly used Earthtime-measurements in our conversation. As is still the case, ships ofthe Special Patrol Service were commanded without exception by nativesof Earth, and the entire officer personnel hailed largely from the sameplanet, although I have had several Zenian officers of rare ability andcourage.
I nodded and thanked him for the report. Maximum attraction, eh? That,considering the small size of our objective, meant we were much closerto L-472 than to any other regular body.
Mechanically, I studied the various dials about the room. The attractionmeter, as Kincaide had said, registered several degrees of attraction,and the red slide on the rim of the dial was squarely at the top,showing that the attraction was coming from the world at which our nosewas pointed. The surface-temperature gauge was at normal. Internalpressure, normal. Internal moisture-content, a little high. Kincaide,watching me, spoke up:
"I have already given orders to dry out, sir," he said.
"Very good, Mr. Kincaide. It's a long trip, and I want the crew in goodcondition." I studied the two charts, one showing our surroundingslaterally, the other vertically, all bodies about us represented asglowing spots of green light, of varying sizes; the ship itself as atiny scarlet spark. Everything shipshape: perhaps, a degree or two ofelevation when we were a little closer--
"May I come in sir?" broke in a gentle, high-pitched voice.
"Certainly, Mr. Dival," I replied, answering in the Universal languagein which the request had been made. "You are always very welcome." Divalwas a typical Zenian of the finest type: slim, very dark, and with theamazingly intelligent eyes of his kind. His voice was very soft andgentle, and like the voice of all his people, clear and high-pitched.
"Thank you," he said. "I guess I'm over-eager, but there's somethingabout this mission of ours that worries me. I seem to feel--" He brokeoff abruptly and began pacing back and forth across the room.
I studied him, frowning. The Zenians have a strange way of being rightabout such things; their high-strung, sensitive natures seem capable ofresponding to those delicate, vagrant forces which even now are onlyincompletely understood and classified.
"You're not used to work of this sort," I replied, as bluffly andheartily as possible. "There's nothing to worry about."
"The commanders of the two ships that disappeared probably felt the sameway, sir," said Dival. "I should have thought the Chiefs of the SpecialPatrol Service would have sent several ships on a mission such as this."
"Easy to say," I laughed bitterly. "If the Council would pass theappropriations we need, we might have ships enough so that we could senda fleet of ships when we wished. Instead of that, the Council, in itsinfinite wisdom, builds greater laboratories and schools of higherlearning--and lets the Patrol get along as best it can."
"It was from the laboratories and the schools of higher learning thatall these things sprang," replied Dival quietly, glancing around at thearray of instruments which made navigation in space possible.
"True," I admitted rather shortly. "We must work together. And as forwhat we shall find upon the little world ahead, we shall be there innine or ten hours. You may wish to make some preparations."
"Nine or ten hours? That's Earth time, isn't it? Let's see: about twoand a half enaros."
"Correct," I smiled. The Universal method of reckoning time had neverappealed to me. For those of my readers who may only be familiar withEarth time measurements, an enar is about eighteen Earth days, an enarena little less than two Earth days, and an enaro nearly four and a halfhours. The Universal system has the advantage, I admit, of a decimaldivision; but I have found it clumsy always. I may be stubborn andold-fashioned, but a clock face with only ten numerals and one handstill strikes me as being unbeautiful and inefficient.
"Two and a half enaros," repeated Dival thoughtfully. "I believe I shallsee if I can get a little sleep now; I should not have brought my bookswith me, I'm afraid. I read when I should sleep. Will you call me shouldthere be any developments of interest?"
I assured him that he would be called as he requested, and he left.
"Decent sort of a chap, sir," observed Kincaide, glancing at the doorthrough which Dival had just departed.
"A student," I nodded, with the contempt of violent youth for the man ofgentler pursuits than mine, and turned my attentions to somecalculations for entry in the log.
* * * * *
Busied with the intricate details of my task, time passed rapidly. Thewatch changed, and I joined my officers in the tiny, arched diningsalon. It was during the meal that I noticed for the first time a sortof tenseness; every member of the mess was unusually quiet. And though Iwould not, have admitted it then, I was not without a good deal ofnervous restraint myself.
"Gentlemen," I remarked when the meal was finished, "I believe youunderstand our present mission. Primarily, our purpose is to ascertain,if possible, the fate of two ships that were sent here and have notreturned. We are now close enough for reasonable observation by means ofthe television disc, I believe, and I shall take over its operationmyself.
"There is no gainsaying the fact that whatever fate overtook the twoother Patrol ships, may lay in wait for us. My orders are to observeevery possible precaution, and to return with a report. I am going toask that each of you proceed immediately to his post, and make ready, inso far as possible, for any eventuality. Warn the watch which has justgone off to be ready for instant duty. The disintegrator ray generatorsshould be started and be available for instant emergency use, maximumpower. Have the bombing crews stand by for orders."
"What do you anticipate, sir?" asked Correy, my new sub-commander. Theother officers waited tensely for my reply.
"I don't know, Mr. Correy," I admitted reluctantly. "We have noinformation upon which to base an assumption. We do know that two shipshave been sent here, and neither of them have returned. Somethingprevented that return. We must endeavor to prevent that same fate fromovertaking the _Kalid_--and ourselves."
* * * * *
Hurrying back to the navigating room, I posted myself beside thecumbersome, old-fashioned television instrument. L-472 was near enoughnow to occupy the entire field, with the range hand at maximum. Onewhole continent and parts of two others were visible. Not many detailscould be made out.
I waited grimly while an hour, two hours, went by. My field narroweddown to one continent, to a part of one continent. I glanced up at thesurface temperature gauge and noted that the hand was registering a fewdegrees above normal. Correy, who had relieved Kincaide as navigatingofficer, followed my gaze.
"Shall we reduce speed, sir?" he asked crisply.
"To twice atmospheric speed," I nodded. "When we enter the envelopeproper, reduce to normal atmospheric speed. Alter your course uponentering the atmosphere proper, and work back and forth along theemerging twilight zone, from the north polar cap to the southern cap,and so on."
"Yes, sir!" he replied, and repeated the orders to the control roomforward.
I pressed the attention signal to Dival's cubicle, and informed him thatwe were entering the outer atmospheric fringe.
"Thank you, sir!" he said eagerly. "I shall be with you immediately."
In rapid succession I called various officers and gave terse orders.Double crews on duty in the generator compartment, the ray projectors,the atomic bomb magazines, and release tubes. Observers at allobservation posts, operators at the two smaller television instrumentsto comb the terrain and report instantly any object of interest. Withthe three of us searching, it seemed incredible that anything couldescape us. At atmospheric altitudes even the two smaller televisioninstruments would be able to pick out a body the size of one of themissing ships.
* * * * *
Dival entered the room as I finished giving my orde
rs.
"A strange world, Dival," I commented, glancing towards the televisioninstrument. "Covered with trees, even the mountains, and what I presumeto be volcanic peaks. They crowd right down to the edge of the water."
He adjusted the focusing lever slightly, his face lighting up with theinterest of a scientist gazing at a strange specimen, whether it be amicrobe or a new world.
"Strange ... strange ..." he muttered. "A universal vegetation ... novariation of type from equator to polar cap, apparently. And thewater--did you notice its color, sir?"
"Purple," I nodded. "It varies on the different worlds, you know. I'veseen pink, red, white and black seas, as well as the green and blue ofEarth."
"And no small islands," he went on, as though he had not ever heard me."Not in the visible portion, at any rate."
I was about to reply, when I felt the peculiar surge of the _Kalid_ asshe reduced speed. I glanced at the indicator, watching the hand dropslowly to atmospheric speed.
"Keep a close watch, Dival," I ordered. "We shall change our course now,to comb the country for traces of two ships we are seeking. If you seethe least suspicious sign, let me know immediately."
* * * * *
He nodded, and for a time there was only a tense silence in the room,broken at intervals by Correy as he spoke briefly into his microphone,giving orders to the operating room.
Perhaps an hour went by. I am not sure. It seemed like a longer timethan that. Then Dival called out in sudden excitement, his high, thinvoice stabbing the silence:
"Here, sir! Look! A little clearing--artificial, I judge--and the ships!Both of them!"
"Stop the ship, Mr. Correy!" I snapped as I hurried to the instrument."Dival, take those reports." I gestured towards the two attentionsignals that were glowing and softly humming and thrust my head into theshelter of the television instrument's big hood.
Dival had made no mistake. Directly beneath me, as I looked, was aclearing, a perfect square with rounded corners, obviously blasted outof the solid forest by the delicate manipulation of sharply focuseddisintegrator rays. And upon the naked, pitted surface thus exposed,side by side in orderly array, were the missing ships!
* * * * *
I studied the strange scene with a heart that thumped excitedly againstmy ribs.
What should I do? Return and report? Descend and investigate? There wasno sign of life around the ships, and no evidence of damage. If Ibrought the _Kalid_ down, would she make a third to remain there, to bemarked "lost in space" on the records of the Service?
Reluctantly, I drew my head from beneath the shielding hood.
"What were the two reports, Dival?" I asked, and my voice was thick."The other two television observers?"
"Yes, sir. They report that they cannot positively identify the shipswith their instruments, but feel certain that they are the two we seek."
"Very good. Tell them, please, to remain on watch, searching space inevery direction, and to report instantly anything suspicious. Mr.Correy, we will descend until this small clearing becomes visible,through the ports, to the unaided eye. I will give you the correctionsto bring us directly over the clearing." And I read the finder scales ofthe television instrument to him.
He rattled off the figures, calculated an instant, and gave his ordersto the control room, while I kept the television instrument bearing uponthe odd clearing and the two motionless, deserted ships.
* * * * *
As we settled, I could make out the insignia of the ships, could see thepitted, stained earth of the clearing, brown with the dust ofdisintegration. I could see the surrounding trees very distinctly now:they seemed very similar to our weeping willows, on Earth, which, Iperhaps should explain, since it is impossible for the averageindividual to have a comprehensive knowledge of the flora and fauna ofthe entire known Universe, is a tree of considerable size, having long,hanging branches arching from its crown and reaching nearly to theground. These leaves, like typical willow leaves, were long and slender,of rusty green color. The trunks and branches seemed to be black or darkbrown: and the trees grew so thickly that nowhere between their brancheswas the ground visible.
"Five thousand feet, sir," said Correy. "Directly above the clearing.Shall we descend further?"
"A thousand feet at a time, Mr. Correy," I replied, after a moment'shesitation. "My orders are to exercise the utmost caution. Mr. Dival,please make a complete analysis of the atmosphere. I believe you arefamiliar with the traps provided for the purpose?"
"Yes. You propose to land, sir?"
"I propose to determine the fate of those two ships and the men whobrought them here," I said with sudden determination. Dival made noreply, but as he turned to obey orders, I saw that his presentiment oftrouble had not left him.
"Four thousand feet, sir," said Correy.
I nodded, studying the scene below us. The great hooded instrumentbrought it within, apparently, fifty feet of my eyes, but the greatdetail revealed nothing of interest.
The two ships lay motionless, huddled close together. The great circulardoor of each was open, as though opened that same day--or a centurybefore.
"Three thousand feet, sir," said Correy.
"Proceed at the same speed," I replied. Whatever fate had overtaken themen of the other ships had caused them to disappear entirely--andwithout sign of a struggle. But what conceivable fate could that be?
"Two thousand feet, sir," said Correy.
"Good," I said grimly. "Continue with the descent, Mr. Correy."
Dival hurried into the room as I spoke. His face was still clouded withforeboding.
"I have tested the atmosphere, sir," he reported. "It is suitable forbreathing by either men of Earth or Zenia. No trace of noxious gases ofany kind. It is probably rather rarified, such as one might find onEarth or Zenia at high altitudes."
"One thousand feet, sir," said Correy.
I hesitated an instant. Undoubtedly the atmosphere had been tested bythe other ships before they landed. In the case of the second ship, atany rate, those in command must have been on the alert against danger.And yet both of those ships lay there motionless, vacant, deserted.
* * * * *
I could feel the eyes of the men on me. My decision must be delayed nofurther.
"We will land, Mr. Correy," I said grimly. "Near the two ships, please."
"Very well, sir," nodded Correy, and spoke briefly into the microphone.
"I might warn you, sir," said Dival quietly, "to govern your activities,once outside: free from the gravity pads of the ship, on a body of suchsmall size, an ordinary step will probably cause a leap of considerabledistance."
"Thank you, Mr. Dival. That is a consideration I had overlooked. I shallwarn the men. We must--"
At that instant I felt the slight jar of landing. I glanced up; metCorrey's grave glance squarely.
"Grounded, sir," he said quietly.
"Very good, Mr. Correy. Keep the ship ready for instant action, please,and call the landing crew to the forward exit. You will accompany us,Mr. Dival?"
"Certainly, sir!"
"Good. You understand your orders, Mr. Correy?"
"Yes, sir!"
I returned his salute, and led the way out of the room, Dival close onmy heels.
* * * * *
The landing crew was composed of all men not at regular stations; nearlyhalf of the _Kalid's_ entire crew. They were equipped with the smallatomic power pistols as side-arms, and there were two three-mendisintegrator ray squads. We all wore menores, which were unnecessaryin the ship, but decidedly useful outside. I might add that the menoreof those days was not the delicate, beautiful thing that it is to-day:it was comparatively crude, and clumsy band of metal, in which wereimbedded the vital units and the tiny atomic energy generator, and wasworn upon the head like a crown. But for all its clumsiness, it conveyedand received thought, and,
after all, that was all we demanded of it.
I caught a confused jumble of questioning thoughts as I came up, andtook command of the situation promptly. It will be understood, ofcourse, that in those days men had not learned to blank their mindsagainst the menore, as they do to-day. It took generations of trainingto perfect that ability.
"Open the exit," I ordered Kincaide, who was standing by the switch, keyin the lock.
"Yes, sir," he thought promptly, and unlocking the switch, released thelever.
The great circular door revolved swiftly, backing slowly on its finethreads, gripped by the massive gimbals which, as at last the ponderousplug of metal freed itself from its threads, swung the circular dooraside, like the door of a vault.
* * * * *
Fresh clean air swept in, and we breathed, it gratefully. Science canrevitalize air, take out impurities and replace used-up constituents,but if cannot give it the freshness of pure natural air. Even thescience of to-day.
"Mr. Kincaide, you will stand by with five men. Under no circumstancesare you to leave your post until ordered to do so. No rescue parties,under any circumstances, are to be sent out unless you have those ordersdirectly from me. Should any untoward thing happen to this party, youwill instantly reseal this exit, reporting at the same time to Mr.Correy, who has his orders. You will not attempt to rescue us, but willreturn to the Base and report in full, with Mr. Correy in command. Isthat clear?"
"Perfectly," came back his response instantly; but I could sense therebellion in his mind. Kincaid and I were old friends, as well as fellowofficers.
I smiled at him reassuringly, and directed my orders to the waiting men.
"You are aware of the fate of the two ships of the Patrol that havealready landed here," I thought slowly, to be sure they understoodperfectly. "What fate overtook them, I do not know. That is what we arehere to determine."
"It is obvious that this is a dangerous mission. I'm ordering none ofyou to go. Any man who wishes to be relieved from landing duty mayremain inside the ship, and may feel it no reproach. Those who do goshould be constantly on the alert, and keep in formation; the usualcolumn of twos. Be very careful, when stepping out of the ship, toadjust your stride to the lessened gravity of this small world. Watchthis point!" I turned to Dival, motioned him to fall in at my side.Without a backward glance, we marched out of the ship, treading verycarefully to keep from leaping into the air with each step.
Twenty feet away, I glanced back. There were fourteen men behind me--nota man of the landing crew had remained in the ship!
"I am proud of you men!" I thought heartily: and no emanation from anymenore was ever more sincere.
* * * * *
Cautiously, eyes roving ceaselessly, we made our way towards the twosilent ships. It seemed a quiet, peaceful world: an unlikely place fortragedy. The air was fresh and clean, although, as Dival had predicted,rarefied like the air at an altitude. The willow-like trees that hemmedus in rustled gently, their long, frond-like branches with their rustygreen leaves swaying.
"Do you notice, sir," came a gentle thought from Dival, an emanationthat could hardly have been perceptible to the men behind us, "thatthere is no wind--and yet the trees, yonder, are swaying and rustling?"
I glanced around, startled. I had not noticed the absence of a breeze.
I tried to make my response reassuring:
"There is probably a breeze higher up, that doesn't dip down into thislittle clearing," I ventured. "At any rate, it is not important. Theseships are what interest me. What will we find there?"
"We shall soon know," replied Dival. "Here is the _Dorlos_; the secondof the two, was it not?"
"Yes." I came to a halt beside the gaping door. There was no soundwithin, no evidence of life there, no sign that men had ever crossedthat threshold, save that the whole fabric was the work of man's hands.
"Mr. Dival and I will investigate the ship, with two of you men," Idirected. "The rest of the detail will remain on guard, and give thealarm at the least sign of any danger. You first two men, follow us."The indicated men nodded and stepped forward. Their "Yes, sirs" camesurging through my menore like a single thought. Cautiously, Dival at myside, the two men at our backs, we stepped over the high threshold intothe interior of the _Dorlos_.
The _ethon_ tubes overhead made everything as light as day, and sincethe _Dorlos_ was a sister ship of my own _Kalid_, I had not theslightest difficulty in finding my way about.
There was no sign of a disturbance anywhere. Everything was in perfectorder. From the evidence, it would seem that the officers and men of the_Dorlos_ had deserted the ship of their own accord, and--failed toreturn.
"Nothing of value here," I commented to Dival. "We may as well--"
There was a sudden commotion from outside the ship. Startled shoutsrang through the hollow hull, and a confused medley of excited thoughtscame pouring in.
With one accord the four of us dashed to the exit, Dival and I in thelead. At the door we paused, following the stricken gaze of the mengrouped in a rigid knot just outside.
Some, forty feet away was the edge of the forest that hemmed us in. Aforest that now was lashing and writhing as though in the grip of someterrible hurricane, trunks bending and whipping, long branches writhing,curling, lashing out--
"Two of the men, sir!" shouted a non-commissioned officer of the landingcrew, as we appeared in the doorway. In his excitement he forgot hismenore, and resorted to the infinitely slower but more natural speech."Some sort of insect came buzzing down--like an Earth bee, but larger.One of the men slapped it, and jumped aside, forgetting the low gravityhere. He shot into the air, and another of the men made a grab for him.They both went sailing, and the trees--_look!_"
But I had already spotted the two men. The trees had them in their grip,long tentacles curled around them, a dozen of the great willow-likegrowths apparently fighting for possession of the prizes. And allaround, far out of reach, the trees of the forest were swayingrestlessly, their long, pendulous branches, like tentacles, lashing outhungrily.
"The rays, sir!" snapped the thought from Dival, like a flash oflightning. "Concentrate the beams--strike at the trunks--"
"Right!" My orders emanated on the heels of the thought more quicklythan one word could have been uttered. The six men who operated thedisintegrator rays were stung out of their startled immobility, and thesoft hum of the atomatic power generators deepened.
"Strike at the trunks of the trees! Beams narrowed to minimum! Action atwill!"
The invisible rays swept long gashes into the forest as the trainerssquatted behind their sights, directing the long, gleaming tubes.Branches crashed to the ground, suddenly motionless. Thick brown dustdropped heavily. A trunk, shortened by six inches or so, dropped intoits stub and fell with a prolonged sound of rending wood. The treesagainst which it had fallen tugged angrily at their trapped tentacles.
One of the men rolled free, staggered to his feet, and came lurchingtowards us. Trunk after trunk dropped onto its severed stub and fellamong the lashing branches of its fellows. The other man was caught fora moment in a mass of dead and motionless wood, but a cunningly directedray dissolved the entangling branches around him and he lay there, freebut unable to arise.
* * * * *
The rays played on ruthlessly. The brown, heavy powder was falling likegreasy soot. Trunk after trunk crashed to the ground, slashed intofragments.
"Cease action!" I ordered, and instantly the eager whine of thegenerators softened to a barely discernible hum. Two of the men, underorders, raced out to the injured man: the rest of us clustered aroundthe first of the two to be freed from the terrible tentacles of thetrees.
His menore was gone, his tight-fitting uniform was in shreds, andblotched with blood. There was a huge crimson welt across his face, andblood dripped slowly from the tips of his fingers.
"_God!_" he muttered unsteadily as kindly arms lifted him with
eagertenderness. "They're alive! Like snakes. They--they're _hungry_!"
"Take him to the ship," I ordered. "He is to receive treatmentimmediately," I turned to the detail that was bringing in the othervictim. The man was unconscious, and moaning, but suffering more fromshock than anything else. A few minutes under the helio emanations andhe would be fit for light duty.
* * * * *
As the men hurried him to the ship, I turned to Dival. He was standingbeside me, rigid, his face very pale, his eyes fixed on space.
"What do you make of it, Mr. Dival?" I questioned him.
"Of the trees?" He seemed startled, as though I had aroused him fromdeepest thought. "They are not difficult to comprehend, sir. There arenumerous growths that are primarily carnivorous. We have the fintal vineon Zenia, which coils instantly when touched, and thus traps many smallanimals which it wraps about with its folds and digests throughsucker-like growths.
"On your own Earth there are, we learn, hundreds of varieties ofinsectivorous plants: the Venus fly-trap, known otherwise as the DionaeaMuscipula, which has a leaf hinged in the median line, with teeth-likebristles. The two portions of the leaf snap together with considerableforce when an insect alights upon the surface, and the soft portions ofthe catch are digested by the plant before the leaf opens again. Thepitcher plant is another native of Earth, and several varieties of itare found on Zenia and at least two other planets. It traps its gamewithout movement, but is nevertheless insectivorous. You have anotherspecies on Earth that is, or was, very common: the Mimosa Pudica.Perhaps you know it as the sensitive plant. It does not trap insects,but it has a very distinct power of movement, and is extremelyirritable.
"It is not at all difficult to understand a carniverous tree, capable ofviolent and powerful motion. This is undoubtedly what we have here--adecidedly interesting phenomena, but not difficult of comprehension."
It seems like a long explanation, as I record it here, but emanated asit was, it took but an instant to complete it. Mr. Dival went onwithout a pause:
"I believe, however, that I have discovered something far moreimportant. How is your menore adjusted, sir?"
"At minimum."
"Turn it to maximum, sir."
I glanced at him curiously, but obeyed. New streams of thought poured inupon me. Kincaide ... the guard at the exit ... _and something else_.
I blanked out Kincaide and the men, feeling Dival's eyes searching myface. There was something else, something--
I focused on the dim, vague emanations that came to me from the circletof my menore, and gradually, like an object seen through heavy mist, Iperceived the message:
"Wait! Wait! We are coming! Through the ground. The trees ...disintegrate them ... all of them ... all you can reach. But not theground ... not the ground...."
"Peter!" I shouted, turning to Dival. "That's Peter Wilson, secondofficer of the _Dorlos_!"
Dival nodded, his dark face alight.
"Let us see if we can answer him," he suggested, and we concentrated allour energy on a single thought: "We understand. We understand."
The answer came back instantly:
"Good! Thank God! Sweep them down, Hanson: every tree of them. Kill them... kill them ... kill them!" The emanation fairly shook with hate. "Weare coming ... to the clearing ... wait--and while you wait, use yourrays upon these accursed hungry trees!"
Grimly and silently we hurried back to the ship. Dival, the savant,snatching up specimens of earth and rock here and there as we went.
* * * * *
The disintegrator rays of the portable projectors were no more than toyscompared with the mighty beams the _Kalid_ was capable of projecting,with her great generators to supply power. Even with the beams narrowedto the minimum, they cut a swath a yard or more in diameter, and theirrange was tremendous; although working rather less rapidly as thedistance and power decreased, they were effective over a range of manymiles.
Before their blasting beams the forest shriveled and sank into tumbledchaos. A haze of brownish dust hung low over the scene, and I watchedwith a sort of awe. It was the first time I had ever seen the rays atwork on such wholesale destruction.
A startling thing became evident soon after we began our work. Thisworld that we had thought to be void of animal life, proved to beteeming with it. From out of the tangle of broken and harmless branches,thousands of animals appeared. The majority of them were quite large,perhaps the size of full-grown hogs, which Earth animal they seemed toresemble, save that they were a dirty yellow color, and had strong,heavily-clawed feet. These were the largest of the animals, but therewere myriads of smaller ones, all of them pale or neutral in color, andapparently unused to such strong light, for they ran blindly, wildlyseeking shelter from the universal confusion.
Still the destructive beams kept about their work, until the scenechanged utterly. Instead of resting in a clearing, the _Kalid_ was inthe midst of a tangle of fallen, wilting branches that stretched like agreat, still sea, as far as the eye could see.
"Cease action!" I ordered suddenly. I had seen, or thought I had seen, ahuman figure moving in the tangle, not far from the edge of theclearing. Correy relayed the order, and instantly the rays were cut off.My menore, free from the interference of the great atomic generators ofthe _Kalid_, emanated the moment the generators ceased functioning.
"Enough. Hanson! Cut the rays; we're coming."
"We have ceased action; come on!"
I hurried to the still open exit. Kincaide and his guards were staringat what had been the forest; they were so intent that they did notnotice I had joined them--and no wonder!
A file of men were scrambling over the debris; gaunt men withdishevelled hair, practically naked, covered with dirt and the greasybrown dust of the disintegrator ray. In the lead, hardly recognizable,his menore awry upon his tangled locks, was Peter Wilson.
"Wilson!" I shouted; and in a single great leap I was at his side,shaking his hand, one arm about his scarred shoulders, laughing andtalking excitedly, all in the same breath. "Wilson, tell me--in God'sname--what has happened?"
He looked up at me with shining, happy eyes, deep in black sockets ofhunger and suffering.
"The part that counts," he said hoarsely, "is that you're here, and we'rehere with you. My men need rest and food--not too much food, at first,for we're starving. I'll give you the story--or as much of it as Iknow--while we eat."
I sent my orders ahead; for every man of that pitiful crew of survivors,there were two eager men of the _Kalid's_ crew to minister to him. Inthe little dining salon of the officers' mess, Wilson gave us the story,while he ate slowly and carefully, keeping his ravenous hunger in check.
"It's a weird sort of story," he said. "I'll cut it as short as I can.I'm too weary for details.
"The _Dorlos_, as I suppose you know, was ordered to L-472 to determinethe fate of the _Filanus_, which had been sent here to determine thefeasibility of establishing a supply base here for a new interplanetaryship line.
"It took us nearly three days, Earth time, to locate this clearing andthe _Filanus_, and we grounded the _Dorlos_ immediately. Ourcommander--you probably remember him, Hanson: David McClellan? Big,red-faced chap?"
I nodded, and Wilson continued.
"Commander McClellan was a choleric person, as courageous a man as everwore the blue and silver of the Service, and very thoughtful of his men.We had had a bad trip; two swarms of meteorites that had worn our nervesthin, and a faulty part in the air-purifying apparatus had nearly doneus in. While the exit was being unsealed, he gave the interior crewpermission to go off duty, to get some fresh air, with orders, however,to remain close to the ship, under my command. Then, with the usuallanding crew, he started for the _Filanus_.
"He had forgotten, under the stress of the moment, that the force ofgravity would be very small on a body no larger than this. The resultwas that as soon as they hurried out of the ship, away from theinfluence of our own gravity pads,
they hurtled into the air in alldirections."
Wilson paused. Several seconds passed before he could go on.
"Well, the trees--I suppose you know something about them--reached outand swept up three of them. McClellan and the rest of the landing crewrushed to their rescue. They were caught up. _God!_ I can see them ...hear them ... even now!
"I couldn't stand there and see that happen to them. With the rest ofthe crew behind me, we rushed out, armed only with our atomic pistols.We did not dare use the rays; there were a dozen men caught upeverywhere in those hellish tentacles.
"I don't know what I thought we could do. I knew only that I must dosomething. Our leaps carried us over the tops of the trees that werefighting for the ... the bodies of McClellan and the rest of the landingcrew. I saw then, when it was too late, that there was nothing we coulddo. The trees ... had done their work. They ... they were _feeding_....
"Perhaps that is why we escaped. We came down in a tangle of whippingbranches. Several of my men were snatched up. The rest of us saw howhelpless our position was ... that there was nothing we could do. Wesaw, too, that the ground was literally honeycombed, and we dived downthese burrows, out of the reach of the trees.
"There were nineteen of us that escaped. I can't tell you how welived--I would not if I could. The burrows had been dug by the pig-likeanimals that the trees live upon, and they led, eventually, to theshore, where there was water--horrible, bitter stuff, but not salty, andapparently not poisonous."
We lived on these pig-like animals, and we learned something of theirway of life. The trees seem to sleep, or become inactive, at night. Notunless they are touched do they lash about with their tentacles. Atnight the animals feed, largely upon the large, soft fruit of thesetrees. Of course, large numbers of them make a fatal step each night,but they are prolific, and their ranks do not suffer.
"Of course, we tried to get back to the clearing, and the _Dorlos_;first by tunneling. That was impossible, we found, because the rays usedby the _Filanus_ in clearing a landing place had acted somewhat upon theearth beneath, and it was like powder. Our burrows fell in upon usfaster than we could dig them out! Two of my men lost their lives thatway.
"Then we tried creeping back by night; but we could not see as can theother animals here, and we quickly found that it was suicide to attemptsuch tactics. Two more of the men were lost in that fashion. That leftfourteen.
"We decided then to wait. We knew there would be another ship along,sooner or later. Luckily, one of the men had somehow retained hismenore. We treasured that as we treasured our lives. To-day, when, deepin our runways beneath the surface, we felt, or heard, the crashing ofthe trees, we knew the Service had not forgotten us. I put on themenore; I--but I think you know the rest, gentlemen. There were elevenof us left. We are here--all that is left of the _Dorlos_ crew. We foundno trace of any survivor of the _Filanus_; unaware of the possibility ofdanger, they were undoubtedly, all the victims of ... the trees."
Wilson's head dropped forward on his chest. He straightened up with astart and an apologetic smile.
"I believe, Hanson," he said slowly, "I'd better get ... a little ...rest," and he slumped forward on the table in the death-like sleep ofutter exhaustion.
* * * * *
There the interesting part of the story ends. The rest is history, andthere is too much dry history in the Universe already.
Dival wrote three great volumes on L-472--or Ibit, as it is called now.One of them tells in detail how the presence of constantly increasingquantities of volcanic ash robbed the soil of that little world of itsvitality, so that all forms of vegetation except the one became extinct,and how, through a process of development and evolution, those treesbecame carniverous.
The second volume is a learned discussion of the tree itself; it seemsthat a few specimens were spared for study, isolated on a peninsula ofone of the continents, and turned over to Dival for observation anddissection. All I can say for the book is that it is probably accurate.Certainly it is neither interesting nor comprehensible.
And then, of course, there is his treatise on ocrite: how he happenedto find the ore, the probable amount available on L-472--or Ibit, if youprefer--and an explanation of his new method of refining it. I saw himfrantically gathering specimens while we were getting ready to leave,but it wasn't until after we had departed that he mentioned what he hadfound.
* * * * *
I have a set of these volumes somewhere; Dival autographed them andpresented me with them. They established his position, I understand, inhis world of science, and of course, the discovery of this new source ofocrite was a tremendous find for the whole Universe; interplanetarytransportation wouldn't be where it is to-day if it were not for thisinexhaustible source of power.
Yes, Dival became famous--and very rich.
I received the handshakes and the gratitude of the eleven men werescued, and exactly nine words of commendation from the Chief of mysquadron: _"You are a credit to the Service, Commander Hanson!"_
Perhaps, to some who read this, it will seem that Dival fared betterthan I. But to men who have known the comradeship of the outer space,the heart-felt gratitude of eleven friends is a precious thing. And toany man who has ever worn the blue and silver uniform of the SpecialPatrol Service, those nine words from the Chief of Squadron will soundstrong.
Chiefs of Squadrons in the Special Patrol Service--at least in thosedays--were scanty with praise. It may be different in these days of softliving and political pull.
