by Paul Corey
The period between calls would gradually lengthen to a maximum of three hours and stay there. A simple purpose was behind this. On the first call SR would be alerted. The second and third calls would give them a chance to verify the data. After that the calls gave them checks on changes in position.
However, why hadn’t the Spacerover Club or Space Rescue acknowledged my signal? They might at least have let me know that relief was on the way. Some low-score foul-up, I surmised. The Space Administration would hear about this when I got back to Earth, I told myself.
Through the viewport I could see cultivated fields. I couldn’t identify the crop. It was green and bushy. It looked something like the soy beans, I believe they’re called, that we grow on Earth. The soil was a reddish brown.
I had an intuitive feeling that the climate outside would be fine. But it’s routine to check before leaving one’s ship on a strange world.
When I punched the atmospheric test button I wondered if it was dead like the others. It stayed down. That was the only thing I knew for the moment. I would just have to wait and see if a report came through.
I went to the galley and had a cup of coffee. At least that part of the ship’s mechanism still worked. The notion to lace my coffee with brandy came and was rejected. I drank it black and slowly, enjoying every bit of it.
The atmosphere checker began clicking out a report. Results were what I had expected. Outside the air and temperature were identical with those of Earth.
FOUR
Three planets have been found so far, among the thousands explored, that closely resemble Earth in atmosphere, gravity, and to some extent even life. Happening upon a possible fourth didn’t particularly surprise me.
However, hospitality of climate is one thing and can be tested easily enough, but the hospitality of life on a strange planet is something else again. It can only be evaluated by direct contact and an extremely careful approach.
I took a shower and had a shave and prepared to go out. The temperature report indicated mildness. I put on a short-sleeved shirt and shorts of light green myrolon fabric. They are very dressy looking, never lose their creases under any condition. I pulled on a pair of tough but flexible annis-hide boots. They combine walking comfort with a dashing appearance.
In this situation certain precautions are routine. You don’t just step out into a new world expecting a red carpet welcome.
I slung my survival kit over my shoulder. It contained my toilet articles, compressed food, first-aid pack, sunglasses, two steroid cameras—one for colour, one black and white—a compact paint set for pastime, a package of bright-coloured plastic beads for barter.
A harmless but effective weapon is a stunner. I strapped one on my hip. Clipped to my belt was a Boy Scout hatchet and knife and my sun-torch.
Around my neck I fastened the magnetic clasp of a fallon cape. It hung down to a couple of inches below the top of my boots. Karen had given me this one on my last birthday. It’s one of the newest garments designed to protect against heat, cold, rain. I pulled on a beret of a colour to match, setting it at a rakish angle.
A good look in the wardrobe mirror satisfied me as to my appearance. Whatever the type of life that inhabited this planet, it was about to see a respectable looking representative of Earth.
A mixture of races out of the past gave me a permanent tan. My brown hair showed distinctive touches of grey from beneath the beret. Wide-set brown eyes, slightly slanted, a wide, high forehead, straight nose, full mouth, lean jaw. All were supported by a six foot physique.
I slapped the wall plate that controlled the airlock. It hissed slightly. I waited. Then it opened and I went down the short ramp for a better look around.
At once I noticed someone coming towards me along the edge of the field, hurrying a little. It was quite distinctly humanoid, and I assumed that it was male. Friendliness, in a situation like this, is never safe to assume. My hand rested firmly on the butt of my stunner. I hoped to create an impressive sight.
The native came on. He wore light orange pyjama-like clothing. It wasn’t until he was quite close that I saw he was blind.
No. That isn’t quite accurate. He simply had no eyes. In all other respects, in so far as I could determine at the moment, he was completely humanoid.
He was slender and of a height about average with Earth people. His movements were graceful. He had two feet, two legs, two arms, two hands, ten digits. His hair was a pale aqua. (That startled me at the moment.) He had ears, a nose and a mouth, but where you and I have eyes, his face merely showed a skeletal depression completely covered with skin.
I concluded that he was a special case. However, his handicap didn’t seem to bother him. He strode towards me without hesitation. The expression on his face I interpreted as a smile.
“Well come,” he said in a pleasant voice. “Doctor Thur Stone, I pre zoom?”
“Thank you. I’m honoured.” I was definitely surprised that he spoke my language and knew my name. “How did you know my name?”
“It was giv-en me a-long with oth-er per-tin-ent da-ta when it was known where your ship was go-ing to land.”
I noticed a slight whirring sound in his voice. His way of pronouncing every syllable as if it were a word intrigued me. I reasoned that it probably had something to do with the way he had been taught the language.
He was really a very pleasant chap. Young, handsome and agreeable. Except for the absence of eyes he could have been a medium-score Terran.
He told me his name was Trom. He said he had been advised to hurry here and assure me that the proper representatives of Grenda would arrive soon.
I asked him who Grenda was, and he informed me that Grenda was the name of this planet the same as Earth was the name of the planet from which I came. When I asked him where this planet was in relation to mine, he said he couldn’t answer that because he didn’t know.
Of course, unless he had been told in detail, he, with his handicap, could hardly read the universe and spot it in our solar system, let alone the Earth. That was the assumption I made at the time.
To my question, “How did you learn my language?” he replied, “While you were com-ing down, I was giv-en a short course in your ver-nac-u-lar.”
I figured there must be some mistake in meaning here. He couldn’t possibly have learned Terranese in the hour or so it took me to come out of orbit.
But there wasn’t the opportunity to go into this subject at the moment.
What I assumed to be the official party floated into sight, just then, riding in something like a giant soap bubble. Beneath it, like a misplaced halo, was a slight orange glow.
It was a fantastic sight. I could see three occupants in this transparent globe. They seemed to be sitting comfortably on something. As far as I could see there was no engine, no visible means of propulsion or control.
The bubble touched down lightly on the turf in front of me. The halo disappeared. The side split. I expected to hear a loud “pop” but didn’t.
The three passengers stepped out and approached me. They bowed slightly. All wore the same pyjama-type clothing as Trom: one wore yellow, one red and one aqua, almost the colour of Trom’s hair. And there wasn’t an eye in the lot.
Red-pyjamas introduced himself as Doctor Rhoa. He was about my height but older. His indigo hair showed a little grey. His face was lined and he was slighter than I. He spoke without separating syllables.
He didn’t offer to shake hands, but introduced yellow-pyjamas as Doctor Mun and aqua as Doctor Zinzer.
Mun was a smaller person, about my age, I concluded. His hair was like the sky. He bowed to me diffidently. Zinzer was younger than I, as husky and gave the impression of being aggressive, even belligerent. His hair looked faded by the strong sun.
Shades of blue hair and no eyes. I was fascinated.
“We are happy to have you here,” Doctor Rhoa said after the introductions.“We will try to make your stay a pleasant one.”
I thanked
him. I didn’t explain that Space Rescue would be along shortly to take over. Meanwhile I would let them assume that I had just dropped in for a friendly call.
Well, I told myself, this should be an interesting experience.
FIVE
It was arranged that Trom would stay with my ship and I would accompany the three scientists aboard their bubble to the University where they carried on their study and teaching of cosmology. This information intrigued me. I felt in good hands. What luck to meet such a group on a strange planet.
I'm afraid I let myself be over-confident. But there had been absolutely no evidence of hostility. This welcoming committee wasn’t even armed. Besides, they were all without sight. I felt perfectly safe and well able to take care of myself.
Getting aboard a transparent bubble isn’t as easy as you might guess. First, on entering, I went too far and banged into the far side of the thing. I had to feel my way down upon a transparent bench. The three doctors took their seats easily. Doctor Rhoa sat beside me, while the other two seated themselves opposite me.
The split in the side of the bubble healed and we sailed away over the plain without a sound. It was a little unsettling at first to float along as if driven on a light breeze with seemingly no support beneath and complete visibility all around. How did they do it? Levitation?
I wanted to ask but caught myself. Best not to let these people think they have anything a Terran hasn’t or doesn’t know about. Just the same, I suddenly envisioned this bubble being caught in an updraft and whirled away into some other county. Well, they didn’t seem worried; why should I?
There was a pretty good answer to that question. I could see and they couldn’t.
“We regret your detainment, Doctor Stone.”
It was young Zinzer who said that and I had a feeling he didn’t mean a word of it. I didn’t like that boy for some reason.
“Think nothing of it,” I said. After all, I had full confidence in Space Rescue. “You have a beautiful planet to be detained on.”
“Beautiful? Beautiful. That word in your language has puzzled us.” Doctor Mun smiled agreeably at me all the time he spoke. In contrast to Zinzer, I liked this chap. “It has a sound with pleasant vibrations but no meaning for us,” he said.
For the first time I really considered this sightless world. I took a good look at it, so to speak.
Here I was, sitting on a transparent bench. (It was quite comfortably cushioned and I felt support all around.) I was in a transparent globe, sailing over a field-patterned plain, rife with the many colours of crops and stubble and turned soil.
Yet when I try to convey this impression to my hosts, I am told that I use a word with a pleasant sound but no meaning. How do you make someone who has never seen understand what seeing is? Just think about it.
It appalled me. What a waste of intrinsic values there must be here. Take these transparent bubbles (I assumed there must be many more of them) just to transport a citizenry that is blind.
If we had a thing like this on Earth, think what it would do to tourism. Mentally I hummed an old folk tune. “I’m forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air.”
The humming may have come a little to the surface. It seemed to me that all three of the Grendans stiffened slightly. Zinzer, who sat directly opposite me, made a quick pass with his hand in front of my face.
An old, very old Earth saying popped into my mind. “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.”
I had two eyes, 20/20 vision, and I was Director of TERRA-TESTING.
“Perhaps agreeable would be a better word,” I said.
I saw them relax noticeably.
“Yes, yes. Agreeable,” said Doctor Mun. “That is an understandable word.”
Doctor Rhoa spoke up then. “We are approaching Lonwolt, Doctor Stone. Right sixty-five degrees, down forty. The University is there. Actually it is the control centre for the educational complex on this side of Grenda. We do mainly research in all fields of learning, but we maintain pilot courses for all levels of education. These set the pattern for other branches of the University and the colleges and schools in the system.”
“Very similar to what we do on Earth,” I said, while adjusting my glance to the co-ordinates he had given me.
However, before I had completely picked up the direction given, I was aware of the town. City, rather. I had been seeing it as a pattern of shimmering reflections in the misty distance for quite some time. Lines ran across the plain towards this spot and these I assumed to be roads.
As we floated nearer I made out an arrangement of almost completely transparent structures separated by streets. It had been the sunlight reflected from the material in these transparent walls that made the tinselled look first attracting my attention. I was aware of vegetation, trees, lawns, gardens, amongst these structures.
What fascinated me at the moment was the shifting reflections as we moved. It was like seeing a wind-ruffled lake in bright sun. Then a thought shook me. How could Doctor Rhoa be so sure of his directions without eyes?
I concluded that he must have been over this ground so often that he knew from repetition just where he was. After all, a blind person on Earth can be so familiar with a room that he can point out chairs or objects as if he could see them.
The University town lay below us now, spreading over a wide area. It was possible to make out smaller structures on the fringes and I assumed these to be homes. Definition of detail increased in spite of the confusion caused by transparency.
Towards the centre of the city the structures grew larger. A section we were heading towards was conspicuous for its sprawling buildings. That must be the University, I told myself. Beyond, but not quite in the centre of the city, was a large red dome.
It was bright red. A cherry red, and the only bright colour showing. Almost every one of the separate structures had a faint greenish cast to its roof, and one or more walls that were faintly pink. But that dome stood out like a warning light on a control pane.
“What is that red building I see?”
“Red? See?” Mun slowly shook his head. “You do have a baffling language, Doctor Stone.”
Of course, those words could mean nothing to the blind.
“Locate this building, please,” said Doctor Rhoa. “Just give us vertical and horizontal co-ordinates, please.”
I pointed. “Down there in the centre of the town. Well, almost the centre.” How stupid of me to point.
The bubble seemed suddenly full of buzzing. I looked around for the bugs. If we had been near the sea I would have thought of dolphins. It wasn’t an unpleasant sound but an awfully lot like a swarm of insects buzzing away in a considerable range of tones. Then I realised that the Grendans were conversing in what I concluded must be their own language.
Doctor Rhoa was the first to buzz off and come back in with Earth talk.
“You have located our energy converter, Doctor Stone. It takes the energy from our universal heat source—sun, I believe is the word you use for the heat source for your planet—and converts this energy to our various needs. The dome radiates a vibration of 739 millimicrons. Your word ‘red’ is a very unspecific way to express these vibrations. But what is the meaning of the word ‘see’?”
That was going to be a toughie. You couldn’t explain the business of seeing by calling it a certain number of vibrations. I was trying to do a step-by-step performance, thinking it out: first explain about eyes, then about vibrations on optic nerves making images, then what images or pictures are. But how the devil do you explain what a picture is to someone who has never seen a picture?
Then I saw something below that knocked out all my efforts to concentrate.
We were floating in low over the edge of the town. Just as I had thought, those smaller structures were homes. This Grendan city was just like an Earth city—business in the centre, bedrooms on the outside.
The faintly greenish roofs did nothing to shut off the view. At first I couldn’
t believe what I saw. This can’t be, I thought. But it was true. Some of the occupants of those houses were as naked as jaybirds and engaged in shocking conjugal relations. I was giving them the benefit of conjugality in my thoughts.
“You were about to explain the word ‘see’ to us,” said Doctor Rhoa.
Zinzer interrupted, “I sense displeasure. How have we displeased you, Doctor Stone?”
He sounded belligerent to me, as if I had damn well better not admit to being displeased, or say that they had done anything to displease me.
“Not displeased,” I said quickly. “I—uh—I found myself inadvertently spying upon the intimate relations of some of your good people.”
Doctor Mun caught me up at once. “Spying. Another word I cannot understand. Explain, please.”
“Later,” said Doctor Rhoa. “We are here.”
As indeed we were. Our bubble floated down to rest upon a wide lawn in the midst of the complex of sprawling structures.
SIX
The whole area was crowded with people. It was like a field of lupins, all those heads of blue hair. All looked young, like a bunch of students at any Earth university, except for their absence of eyes.
The planetary garb, those pyjama-like clothes in many colours, was different of course. But they were as wrinkled and rumpled and sloppy as any campus clothes on Earth. You couldn’t tell the sexes by hair length, but nubility was unmistakable. I felt sorry for the boys for being blind.
For the first time since I left my ship, I thought of Karen. Just a passing thought: why couldn’t she, when she was a student, have fallen in love with someone of her own score-level? Then an old Earth saying came to mind, “Love is blind.”
As our bubble split and we stepped out upon the ground, the buzz of conversation in the crowd rose to a twittering and squeaking, then subsided to a low hum. I could see laughing faces. I could see arms reaching towards us, fingers feeling the air. I was reminded of the feelers of Earth insects which they use to sample their environment.
