03 Now To The Stars

by Captain W E Johns

  Rolto hesitated. `By the colour of its flash and the sonic rays it caused,' he answered smoothly, and went on his way.

  Rex didn't know whether to believe him or not, but he thought there might be something in what he said, for even the scientists were admitting that they might have reached the limit of explosions that could be made without the risk of 'chain-reaction' round the globe; and it was certainly true that the disappearance of Earth would affect every other body in the Solar System.

  What a crazy business it all was, he thought bitterly. Here was a beautiful world with a few people jeopardizing its existence, and another lot of people proposing to destroy them in order to save it. But then, of course, the people on Earth didn't know that.

  Perhaps if they did they would forget their own petty squabbles and ambitions. He made a mental note to ask Vargo how much his people knew about the mysterious sonic rays.

  But these sombre meditations were put out of Rex's head when Vargo brought the news that the High Council had given permission for the visitors to borrow the Tavona, the captain to be the experienced navigator, Borron, and Vargo to act as interpreter.

  The Professor announced that they would start on a tour of the planetoids at dawn the following morning, so would Borron and Vargo please proceed with the final arrangements.

  Borron had already prepared an itinerary of the planetoids he proposed to visit and produced a chart to illustrate his suggested route, the distance between the several objectives being shown in units of time as registered by an instrument on the panel in the spacecraft. This was standard equipment in all Minoan ships so Rex knew all about it. It was in the manner of a clock, with a dial and a needle, one full circle of the needle representing, according to Rex's watch, about two hours forty minutes of Earthly time.

  So to work out the distance between objectives at normal cruising velocity was a matter of simple arithmetic. It was no use talking of distance in terms of miles. The time factor was all that mattered.

  Naturally, Rex was a little while adapting himself to space-time. As with a foreign language, he found himself, in order to understand its meaning, translating it into his own time of the twenty-four-hour day, regardless of the fact that in space, days and nights did not exist as such. One revolution of the needle round the dial was called, in Minoan, a Vix. The passing of each Vix was marked on a counter, which was in fact the ship's log.

  Thus, an objective nine Vixes distant would mean a journey of twenty-four hours.

  Some of the objectives, as Borron read them out, had fascinating names: Lin; Pallio; Kindor; Jax; Norro; Stontum.

  When the time came for leaving, and the spacesuits were put on board, Morino, who had come to see them off, was tearful, much to Rex's embarrassment. He asked her what was the matter, to which she replied: 'I am sad because I shall never see you or my father again.'

  'Why not?' asked Rex, in surprise.

  'Because,' sobbed Morino, pointing to the sky, 'we know what terrible things happen there.'

  'Such as?'

  'On Norro there are huge ugly people who cut you in strips, dry you in the sun and eat you for dinner.'

  Rex smiled. 'We have fairy tales on Earth, too.'

  'But it's true,' cried Morino passionately. 'My father, who goes with you, has seen them.

  When I was small he would say, if you are naughty I will take you to Norro where you will be cooked on a spit to make a nice mouthful.'

  'Don't worry,' consoled Rex. 'He was only trying to frighten you. I'll be back.' So saying, with a wave - for Tiger was calling him - he went in through the airlock. The double doors were closed, and a few minutes later, when the pressure had been adjusted, they were on their way, with Mino shrinking to a ball before their eyes.

  Now it was intended that their first call should be made at Lin, one of the larger planetoids - the one which to Earthly astronomers, the Professor thought, should be Ceres, Vesta, Pallas or Juno; but there was no means of checking this, so they continued to call it by its Minoan name, Lin.

  But some time before they reached it the Professor called attention to a singularly brilliant flashing star. Indeed, so bright was it in the blue-black sky, that it was only possible to observe it properly through a piece of tinted plastic-like material provided by Borron, apparently carried for just such a purpose.

  Borron announced that the star, or rather, planetoid, was Unkos, a word that simply meant shiner. It was not on the list of places to be visited.

  'Why not?' inquired the Professor.

  'There is nothing there. Nothing lives,' translated Vargo, when Borron had answered.

  'But what causes it to shine like that? Why should it reflect the sun more than others?' the Professor wanted to know. 'Is it ice?'

  No, it was not ice, explained Vargo, who went on to say he had heard of the place although he had never been there. It was a good mark for navigators but ships rarely called, having no reason to, as there was no air, water, or life. One gas was present -

  helium. The rest, he thought, was what he had heard the Professor call glass.

  'Then it should be worth a visit,' declared the Professor.

  Borron and Vargo held a brief discussion, at the end of which Vargo said they would go there. The reason for the hesitation was certain unusual dangers, one of which was the glare, which was so dazzling from close range that an approach could only be made from the sunless side. Even there it was not dark, for the reflections were carried right round the globe, as presently they would see for themselves. Another danger was, the glass was still cracking as the outer skin became colder.

  'But why should that happen to one particular planetoid?' inquired the Professor.

  Again Vargo explained. When this particular portion of Kraka had been torn away by the explosion that destroyed that planet it must have consisted chiefly of sand. In passing near the sun on its original orbit the tremendous heat had fused this to form glass. Later, a sunburst had flung it far out into a new orbit, where, in the icy vacuum, the glass had hardened, cracked and split, as they would see.

  'Each face of glass would of course act as a reflector,' put in Toby.

  'Quite so,' said the Professor. 'It is understandable, particularly when one recalls that when the first experimental atom bomb was let off on an American desert the surface of the sand was afterwards found to be partly glass.'

  Borron spoke to Vargo, who again translated. Borron says he knows of a similar world to this, but there the surface is ice, not glass. What happened was the fault of the people who lived on it. They were clever, and being short of water on one side of their globe, with much ice on the other side, they decided to make an explosion to tilt the world and bring the ice in a more direct line with the sun. The idea was good, but it was badly managed. The explosion was too big and there was more ice on the Pole than they knew.

  This great mass melted in a moment and rushed across the world, overwhelming everything and everybody, to fill a great depression on the other side. This caused the world to wobble, and presently overbalance, so that it fell into a new orbit, farther from the sun, where the water again froze. Now everything is covered with a thick skin of ice.

  Such is the legend, and it may be true, for Borron says he has stood on the ice, and looking down seen the people in it, just as they were on the day they died.'

  The Professor nodded pensively. 'Something of the sort may once have happened on Earth, to account for the great herds of mammoths that are frozen in the Siberian tundra. They, too, are perfectly preserved, and their tusks, which the natives dig out, have been the main source of ivory for generations, and are to this day.'

  'That's what comes of tinkering with the thing you're standing on,' joked Tiger.

  Vargo did not smile. Apparently to him the subject was not one for humour. From the experiences of his people in space no doubt he knew how little interference was needed to do tremendous damage. It was, reflected Rex, a lesson that the people on Earth had yet to learn, for they were gettin
g clever - perhaps too clever. The trouble was, it seemed that one mistake only was allowed. There was no second chance.

  By this time the glare of Unkos was becoming almost painful to the eyes, and it was a relief when Borron put the planetoid between them and the sun. Even so, the sphere still cast off a mysterious glow, mostly green and blue.

  Vargo said if they intended to leave the ship it was time they were getting into their spacesuits, which they proceeded to do, carefully testing the controls and adjusting the pressure. This meant from now on the Earth party would be able to converse only with each other, for not having the power of thought-transference, they had to rely on radio, which the Minoans, not needing it, did not possess. However, this would not prevent Vargo from conveying simple messages by his strange power; but they would not be able to reply.

  The spectacle that greeted Rex's eyes as they made a cautious approach to the glittering planetoid surpassed anything he could have imagined. He would have said it was possible to visualize a world of glass by mentally magnifying a glass marble a million times; but the limits of his imagination would have fallen far short of reality. He had expected to find a flat surface: but the surface of Unkos was anything but flat. Not only had the glass hardened in mighty sweeping undulations, as if a rolling ocean had been arrested suddenly in motion, but it was split and cracked in all directions to form a chaos of terrifying chasms.

  Here, thought Rex, was not only a lifeless world but one that would remain dead for ever. Air might one day return; and perhaps water; but nothing, not even the lowest form of plant life, could put down roots in glass. Phobos, that little moon of Mars, was utterly sterile; but there was soil, and only water and an atmosphere were needed to bring back life. Unkos was large in comparison, how large could more or less be judged by the slight curve of the horizon.

  It is not to be supposed that the glass was all the clear transparent product known on Earth as window glass. Far from it. Much of it appeared to be cloudy, even opaque. The basic colours varied from pale green, through blue, to deep violet; but where the glass had split it blazed with all the colours of the spectrum, like a tangle of rainbows. The colours illuminated the inside of the ship as if with neon lights.

  Rex was still staring, spellbound, when a soft jar told him they had landed. He looked down, and was instantly seized by a spasm of vertigo, as if he had found himself standing on the lip of a precipice. The globe was not transparent, as he was presently to realize, but the skin at the point where they had touched down was so clear that he might have been gazing into deep blue water.

  Borron raised a hand and they followed him into the airlock chamber, from where, presently, they stepped out on to the hard surface of the glazed world. Walking was difficult and somewhat dangerous, for a slip might have resulted in broken bones; so it was with slow, deliberate steps that they followed their guide to a point from which they could look down into the nearest abyss. Rex looked into it and gasped.

  What he saw was so far beyond belief that he could only stare helplessly.

  The fissure might have been two hundred yards across, but in depth it seemed to go down to the core of the globe, or at any rate to the limit of the glass. His eyes followed the glittering cliffs down to the bottom, where something seemed to be happening. There, he thought, it must still be in a molten state, for as he watched he saw an enormous bubble blown, presumably a glass bubble, which, as it broke away and started to rise, must have been filled with gas, possibly helium. It didn't reach the top.

  About halfway up it burst in a shower of crystals. By that time another bubble was forming, to do exactly the same thing.

  In a dazed sort of way Rex wondered how long this incredible phenomenon had been going on, and for how long the blow-hole, like the crater of a volcano, would continue to produce bubbles.

  He started back in alarm as a great mass of glass broke away from the wall of the chasm, and splintering to a thousand fragments went hurtling down into the cauldron.

  He was turning to speak to Tiger, to ask him what he thought of it all, when he saw Barron stare across the flat expanse on which they stood, throw up his arms and start for the ship at a speed that could only mean danger. Staring in the same direction he saw the reason. A new crack was opening in the glass, widening as it moved towards the spot on which they stood, flinging dagger-like splinters to the left and right.

  Rex's cry of horror sent them all slipping and sliding towards the ship.

  It was close, and the outer airlock door was open, but even so Rex thought they would be too late. And so they would have been had not the crack, evidently encountering some obstruction and taking the line of least resistance, suddenly struck off at an angle.

  The ship left the ground while they were still in the airlock chamber.

  All Borron had to say, when, presently, inside the ship, still pale from shock, they divested themselves of their spacesuits, was: Ùnkos is a dangerous place.'

  Rex couldn't have agreed more. 4 The unlucky land of Lin The next port of call - or world of call - on Borron's chart was Lin, and the Tawma sped on towards it forthwith, for there was now neither day nor night, only a shadow when one of the many minor planetoids happened to be between the spaceship and the sun. The effect produced was a half-light in the manner of an eclipse, the smaller body sometimes being visible as a black spot, large or small according to its distance from them, against the face of the sun.

  Rex took the opportunity to put in some sleep, for the absence of night did not prevent him from becoming tired at the usual regular intervals.

  He awoke to learn that the ship was proceeding slowly and with caution, the reason being that across their line of flight there was a trail of debris left by a disintegrating asteroid some time in the past. As Vargo explained, this particular debris, having been cast off in a neutralized gravitational zone, had to remain there until it was disturbed by a comet or meteor which, hurling it or dragging it into the gravitational zone of a planet or planetoid, would, so to speak, clear the air. The stuff would do no damage to the body on which it fell provided there was an atmosphere. This would cause it to become incandescent with heat by friction and disappear before reaching the ground. In other words it would become a cluster of 'shooting stars'.

  This Great Barrier Reef in space, as the Professor called it, was a hazard that would not have been expected had they not been told of it. A spaceship colliding with it at speed would certainly not survive the shock of the collision. However, regular space pilots knew all about it, Vargo assured them, and took care to avoid it.

  Watching, they saw the reef appear as a smudge across the sky. At the Professor's request Borron took them close. But as a spectacle it was not particularly interesting, comprising only dust, stones and rock. It merely looked unnatural and slightly ridiculous to see such things stationary with nothing to support them. All heavenly bodies were in exactly the same sort of suspension, of course, but in the case of the planets their size made the phenomenon less spectacular.

  The Tavona continued on its way, and soon afterwards Borron was able to point to the objective. He had a long conversation with Vargo, who then explained.

  'Borron thinks you should know something of this place so that you will not be surprised by what you see. You asked to see unusual sights, and for that reason only he put this place on the list, for, while it is large it is not beautiful, and it serves no useful purpose The atmosphere is very strong, and for that reason you may at first be sick. There is too much salt. Salt is on everything and in everything, including the water, which is therefore undrinkable to us. The men here are small and friendly. They can drink the water.

  Lizards live in the water. There is nothing else. Only men and lizards, very big lizards.

  As there is nothing else to eat the men live on the lizards and the lizards live on the men.

  To escape from the lizards the men must make their houses in the trees.

  These, like everything, are white with salt; but if you r
ub the salt from the leaves they are green. Lin is a world of salt. Sometimes some is taken to where there is none, presents being given for it, for which reason the men like to see a ship come. They have nothing to lose, not even their land, which no one would have as a gift. This is what Borron has asked me to tell you.'

  'A world of salt,' muttered the Professor. 'Strange, but not really remarkable when one remembers that at home all our large bodies of water contain salt, as does much of the land, to a greater or lesser degree.

  Tell us, Vargo, why do these men stay here?'

  'They have lived in a world of salt for so long that they cannot live anywhere else. Where they came from originally, or how they got here, no one knows. But now they must have salt, much salt, or they die. They may soon die anyway, for always they become fewer and the lizards more. In the end the lizards will win, only to die of starvation when there are no men left to eat.'

  'But have these men no form of cultivation that they must rely on lizard meat?' inquired the Professor.

  'We have given them seeds, but nothing will grow in the salt earth except a hard grass and one sort of tree such as you never saw before.'