Star Ship on Saddle Mountain

by Richard Ackley

  "But I cannot help, Charles. I would like to, just as much as I would also like you to see my homeland as I have seen yours. But I can do nothing, Charles."

  "It sort of looks like that, Dondee. I mean, it looks as if I'll be seeing your world as you saw mine. Whether I like the idea or not." '

  Dondee put out his hand, for a brief moment resting it on Charlie's shoulder.

  "That's all right, Dondee. I get the idea of how you feel. Thanks a lot."

  "You have had no food," Dondee said, suddenly happy that he could change the subject. "Shall I bring you some,

  -is

  or do you wish to go with me to the sixth tier, where we can

  eat?"

  About to accept, Charlie turned and glanced at Navajo.

  "Oh, I'll be sure to have some of the grain sent to him, from what we have aboard—we got it last night, when we got your supplies on the shore, Charles. And he will have some of the apples, too!"

  "Okay, Dondee, swell. But tell them only one or two apples at the most. More might make Nav sick, though he'd eat them all if I let him."

  With another glance back at Navajo, Charlie followed Dondee through the panel opening, then into a tall, glistening transparent cylinder, within the larger cylinder of the deck.

  "It is an airlift," Dondee's impulse informed Charlie. Then he pushed a large, saucer-size plastic-looking button, barely touching it—and the airlift started smoothly up on its cushioned course. "We could have walked the spiral outside," and Dondee pointed to the circling stairway that spiraled about them as they ascended.

  "It's sure smooth!" 'Charlie said. "Hey—look at the steps outside—they're moving around us! Like being on the inside of a giant barber pole!"

  "It seems like that, but we are the only things in motion now," Dondee said. "I'm glad we took the airlift, for the sixth tier is a long climb up, about like going up four or five levels in the buildings of your world, Charles."

  Dondee let go a very high speed thought concerning what Charlie meant by barber pole. Without realizing it, Charlie

  reflected the impulse reply, without opening his mouth to speak at all. He only thought his answer.

  "Charles! Do you realize what you just did? You actually replied to my question—and without sending a single sound wave! You didn't even open your mouth. I am sure, Charles, for I was watching you when I sent the high speed thought."

  Charlie smiled, feeling proud of the new accomplishment in the Interplanetary language.

  "I guess you know now that maybe our world here on Earth is not all made up of primitives! That's something you better remember, Dondee!"

  Just then the airlift stopped at the indicated tier, and the concave panel slid around automatically. Charlie followed the alien boy out. Not empty like the lower dome tier, the sixth deck of the Saturnian star ship was a great lounge, and luxurious was the word that flashed through Charlie's mind as he glanced over the sea of comfortable, low-built scarlet lounge seats that were built into the deck. They were the most modernistic form-fitting chairs Charlie had ever seen.

  This deck of the biggest tier of all, being the middle tier, was covered with something that felt like a soft padding of moss. It was springy to walk on, and reminded Charlie a little of the pine needles, up in the high country under the evergreens. Only, the sixth tier of the star ship didn't have that fine green smell of the pines. The big lounge smelled a little bit like an airplane, Charlie thought. Just what a space ship should smell like. It reminded him, too, of a new car showroom. The smell of shiny paint and new motors. It was a good smell.

  "This is the main rotunda of the discus," Dondee told him. "Nearly all personnel of the ship come here, when they either want food, or just to rest awhile."

  "It sure is a big place," Charlie said. "I bet it could hold at least a thousand people, all sitting around here at once." I

  "Oh no, Charles. It can only seat four hundred on this I deck."

  "Only four hundred!" and Charlie whistled softly. "Dondee, you should see some of the little jobs on my world. Even the biggest can only hold somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and fifty, and they'd have to sit pretty close together."

  "Well, this is the largest tier, Charles—or deck, as you call it. In your world measurements I believe it is about two hundred yards across the center. Or, if you take the radius, it would be a hundred yards from spot center, out to any point along the panoramic view."

  "Any way you figure, it's a doggone big space ship. Hey— when do we eat?"

  "Oh, I almost forgot. Over here—" and as he pointed, Charlie saw several small rows of sparkling window circles. He copied Dondee, taking out several neatly wrapped packets in something that looked like cellophane. "You just push the button—yes, like that, at whatever other window you want to open." With an armful of the assorted packets, Charlie took one of the crystalline cylinders of a sparkling green liquid that Dondee enthusiastically recommended. Seating themselves over near the broad panoramic of the sixth tier, Charlie noticed for the first time the great height—he could

  see for miles around the Saddle Mountain peaks. Dondee climbed over one lounge seat to take another facing the one Charlie had taken.

  Charlie looked out a moment longer, his searching gaze taking in the distant railroad bridge far down the Colorado, past the non-existent town of Earp on the California side, and also the northern end of the lake in the opposite direction.

  "Enjoy the recliner," came the easy impulse from Dondee. "We can explore the ship after. Most of all, I can show you the top control dome of the flagship. That is, if the Navigator is not in there."

  "You mean, there are still more decks—tiers, up over this one? I thought I counted eleven last night, but figured they weren't all decks."

  "Oh yes, Charles. Exactly eleven. We're only in six now, the middle tier. All the others graduate downward in size from this one, in either direction, to the domes. Sort of the north and south poles of the discus!"

  "Sort o f " Charlie repeated. "Doggone, Dondee, your impulses sound more like Arizona impulses every minute!"

  The alien boy grinned, pleased at the compliment.

  "And," he said, "each dome is a number one tier. From either dome, we count only to the middle of the ship."

  "I bet this top dome is about as high as Saddle Mountain."

  "It is," agreed the alien boy. "The Navigator chose those two peaks right here, because it seemed the best place to balance the discus for later departure. It allows the gyroscopic rotables to turn freely. That is, so the rotables can get up enough revolutions before we leave the planet's surface,

  and later adjust to the magno lanes out in the Timeless Sea."

  As if realizing he should not have reminded Charlie of the coming departure, hurriedly Dondee began opening his food packets, then flipped over the side panel of the lounge seat. It formed a compact, sturdy table across the chair before him.

  "Hey, that's pretty neat!" said Charlie, and he too, released the lounge arm button. "What's this stuff made of,

  Dondee?"

  "Oh—I guess in your world, oh I know—you'd call it berry juice. It's a product of the Barrier World."

  Charlie opened the small folded top, then tasted the bright green liquid.

  "You may not like it?"

  "Mmmmm!" Charlie exclaimed, putting it back to his mouth again for a longer drink. "That's the best soda I ever tasted."

  "Soda?" came the impulse from Dondee, as he didn't even pause in drinking from his tube of liquid. "What do you mean when you call it soda?"

  Charlie explained briefly about carbonated drinks and drug store soda fountains, but he had to remove the liquid from his mouth when he talked.

  They both noticed it at the same time and laughed.

  "Dondee, that's the one good thing about your old Interplanetary language! I mean, you can get your mouth stuffed full right now with that frozen dessert—and you can still talk a stream!"

  Dondee, chewing heartily, kept right on
talking.

  "Sure, but I notice in your old Earth language, you have to waste time whenever you want to talk!"

  Charlie laughed and so did the alien boy. Just then Dondee leaned forward in his lounge chair, and looked down curiously at the high-heeled Western boots Charlie wore. He reached out, spinning one of the spur's star-wheels with his finger. He smiled happily at Charlie as he repeated the process. Seeing his interest, Charlie removed the boot promptly, and passed it over to him.

  "They're called spurs," Charlie explained. "Sort of a giddyap deal, to make your horse go faster. Like this—"

  Charlie quickly straddled the curved foot rest of the lounge, demonstrating for Dondee. The alien boy nodded eagerly, as he sent back the quick impulse that he understood about riding.

  "That is how you make Navajo travel faster?"

  "Oh no, Dondee. I'd never use them on Navajo. I only wear them because I got them from Uncle John, when we went out on the Indian Reservation once. Uncle John kind of figured I sure wanted them."

  "That is a very beautiful stone," Dondee sent the admiring thought impulse. "It's turquoise. One in each spur, and they're two of the biggest and most perfect ones," Charlie bragged. "But the stars—" Dondee said, frowning, "the points on the stars are all worn down. How did that happen?" "I did it, Dondee. I filed them down off the star-wheels, the day I got them, so they'd be dull and short." "But why, Charles?"

  "For old Nav. I didn't want to get excited and maybe forget sometime, and use them on him. I wouldn't do anything < in the world that would hurt old Nav, Dondee. He's the best horse I ever had."

  "How many horses have you had, Charles?"

  "Oh . . . just the one."

  Dondee didn't say anything for a long time. Instead, he just kept spinning the small silver stars on the boots Charlie had passed to him.

  "He's still the best horse in the whole world," Charlie repeated, watching as the alien boy continued to slowly spin the star-wheels.

  "I wish," came the far-away impulse from Dondee finally, "that I had a horse, too. A horse like Navajo."

  C H AP T E R SE VEN

  The Timeless Sea

  Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

  Jumping from the lounge seat, Dondee tossed the boots to Charlie. He paused a moment as Charlie yanked them on and worked his feet down into them.

  "What's up, Dondee?"

  "That was the preparatory alarm sounding," came the return impulse. He beckoned for Charlie to follow him as he ran to a better position at the panoramic.

  "There—" he pointed, "hold onto that grip-safety. You probably won't need it, but we are supposed to hold one. It is an alloy grip, to insure your footing, even though the centrifugal balance is perfect, no matter what the ship's position is."

  "Are—are we going to—"

  "Yes, Charles! That was the signal to all personnel aboard to check in at their stations. There are only the crew besides us, about one hundred and seventy all together."

  Charlie, as he stared at Dondee, was mixed in his feelings. He was not much interested now, as to how many of the aliens were on board. There was something else of far greater importance to him. In fact, the only thing that mattered was that at any moment he would be leaving his own world. On his way to another world, over ninety-five times the mass volume of Earth. It was a place millions of miles away from Arizona. He stared unseeingly at Dondee, then turned his face slowly back to the glare of the desert, the bright afternoon sunlight, coming from his own desert, through the panoramic view. But now, he was hermetically sealed off from that Arizona country, perhaps forever. Charlie found it hard to get the full impact of what was happening.

  "To your people, Charles, we shall seem like a brief flash in the pure Sun's light."

  But in spite of the uncertainty, and due somewhat to the alien boy's happiness and excitement, Charlie gradually found himself becoming a little excited, too. He was at the point of going on the greatest adventure anyone from his world could possibly have. And that adventure was about to begin. He wanted to say something, do something, but all he could say as Dondee put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a friendly shake, was:

  "Will—will we feel it much? When we leave the ground, Dondee?"

  "Oh sure!"

  "How—" and with Charlie's startled impulse as he spoke, Dondee saw his concern.

  "Oh, I didn't mean that, Charles. There is actually no effect at all, except the excitement—that's what I meant. The rotables balance so perfectly, no matter what angle the discus turns off at, or how fast, the revolutions stabilize the gravitational pull beneath us. The magno lanes are the tracks for the rotables, the rotables which are the greatest engineering work of our world, Charles."

  "What is outer space like, Dondee?"

  Assured by Charlie's interest, the alien boy smiled happily.

  "It is—well, it's like rocking on a giant sea. Even better, Charles. In fact, it is a sea. The people of the higher civilizations do not call it outer space. They know it only as the greatest and most honored of all seas. That's why it's called the Timeless Sea throughout our Solar System. It is on those magno lanes of that sea that we shall travel, Charles."

  Catching still more of the feeling of enthusiasm held by Dondee, Charlie began to forget a little about leaving his own world, as he asked and Dondee answered the questions.

  Lower dome, lower dome—coordinate rotables.

  "That," explained Dondee, "was the commanding Navigator in the upper control dome. The rotables beneath us are already turning at over two thousand revolutions per minute. Your world time, Charles. They must coordinate with the upper ones, in the pre-flight prelude."

  "The Navigator again," Dondee said with a nod.

  Rotables coordinating, sir. All preparations made for lane contact.

  "The second navigator in command," Dondee said. "He is down below, on the lower dome tier."

  A short three-blast siren sounded, like the one Charlie had heard the night before.

  "Watch now!"

  Charlie looked from Dondee, out through the panoramic, at the great sprawling desert land, stretching out in all the distances his eyes could see. His gaze stopped on the distant chocolate-colored mountains to the East, mountains he knew so well. But as he stared at their jagged edges beyond the white-heated sands, Charlie's knuckles also showed white through his tanned skin. His grip was very tight on the grip-safety. Just then it happened!

  Charlie froze there on the spot—staring out hard as the distant horizon tilted crazily. The great jagged chocolate mountains swung hard in an easy motion—standing up vertically on end, sideways. Then with a hardly noticeable sway beneath his feet, Charlie saw the distant mountains slide back down in a swift and graceful curve, to the horizon. Barely had they leveled out—when right before his eyes they slid up diagonally across the panoramic view! Then they were gone.

  "Gosh—I hardly feel anything!" Charlie exclaimed.

  Now he could see much further away—many miles south of Parker. It was a place he knew well, and he could see it clearly. It was Blythe, California. There was no doubt in

  Charlie's mind now. He was heading out—far out, to another world in the Timeless Sea.

  Atmosphere nil, Sir. We are beyond their local air sea.

  "Charles," Dondee said, letting go of the grip-safety, "we are now officially at sea."

  "I sort of figured that out," Charlie said slowly. "From the way things look down there."

  Dondee laughed suddenly. "You sound so grim, Charles!"

  "It is grim," Charlie said, "this far out—at sea."

  Going over closer to the panoramic, Charlie pressed both hands hard against the clear crystal sheet, staring silently out into the vastness of his own world, which was rapidly changing before his eyes. As he watched, it grew smaller, dwindling away before him. The changing course of the great discus flagship, noticeable only by a gentle sway as it turned at incredible speeds, was now making the Sun's light sink swiftly down behind his world. Then it was gone. T
here was only a royal blue night.

  In that unforgettable moment Charlie's eyes grew moist. His mind flashed back to Miss Tisdale's science class, and the globe in her classroom that looked like this great shining green ball out there now before him. He didn't cry, but something choked up inside his throat, and he turned his face momentarily away from Dondee. For on that mighty green ball Charlie could see two great continents, joined by an isthmus. It was the Isthmus of Panama, for that giant green ball was home. It was the planet Earth.

  "It is a beautiful world, Charles. Your world. It is the only world island in our Solar System that is all a beautiful

  green. A beautiful world ... in the Sun's pure light."

  Charlie nodded his head slowly without speaking.

  "I wish," said the alien boy, "my own homeland had such pure light."

  Charlie suddenly realized, not only from what the alien boy had already told him about the Barrier World, but from his words now, that he had seldom seen sunshine at home. And then, only once a period—a year—at the Sun Festival. And he remembered Dondee had also told him that he had been nine years old before he got his first chance to see pure Sun's light. A growing understanding for what the alien boy had missed came to Charlie, as he thought of the lavish sunshine he had always known.