Star Ship on Saddle Mountain

by Richard Ackley

  The alien boy stared ahead, to the great looming shadow that came toward them, the real Barrier, where the mist- laden air closed down, deep and heavy, over his world. Then Dondee spoke, and in his voice and words, Charlie felt some

  thing too of what the Barrier meant to the many millions of people who lived their life behind it.

  "Take a last look, Charles—there at the Sun's pure light."

  "At what, Dondee?"

  "The Sun's light, Charles."

  Squinting hard as he glanced directly into the gaudy blue brilliance, Charlie let the smile slowly fade from his face, even as the alien boy explained.

  "You won't see pure Sun's light again, Charles, living behind the Great Barrier. Not for many periods. And possibly never again, in all your life."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Escape!

  Charlie found that he could see much farther than he had expected, through the particles and mist of the Barrier, though it had seemed very dense at a distance. Occasionally, he saw the great globular outline of a moon looming nearby, its shadowy form following its lonely course through all eternity. And though he tried not to let the new circumstance of his surroundings take hold on his own mind, he could not help feeling some portent of the shadowed life that was the world of Dondee's existence. He turned now to the alien boy.

  "Dondee," he said, "I think I feel a little bit now like you do about the Sun."

  "Perhaps now, Charles, when you're living in my world, you might understand why the Star Project is so important to us all. It's the most important thing in all our lives."

  "I wish you could let me in on it, Dondee—I wouldn't tell, honest."

  Before Dondee could reply they were interrupted by the sudden entrance of several of the ship's officers. Angrily they took Charles by the shoulder, and, as he was taken off with them he saw Dondee being hurried off with two others. He caught their tense impulses directed at Dondee, telling him the Commander had warned him not to mention the Star Project again. The last he saw, Dondee was going up with them on the airlift, to another tier.

  With the sudden flurry of last moment preparations for entering port, Charlie found himself alone with Navajo who had been brought along with him, just where he had started, on the lowest tier of the ship. He couldn't help but feel some of the excitement as the great flagship lowered, slicing easily, gracefully, like a great falling leaf, as it went down to surface. Then there were great billowing clouds of steam— momentarily obscuring the panoramics—as the counter- gravity power was thrown into action. He realized they were now using the D2O reserve.

  It was only a few minutes later, when with the passing of a final command throughout the great ship, Charlie felt a slight and almost unnoticeable shiver. Then he knew! The sudden stillness, no vibration anywhere. And the last traces of steam caused by the down blast through the cool moist atmosphere now were rapidly disappearing. The ship was in port.

  The many days aboard that passed all too swiftly, their passing through and beyond the Radiant Barrier, traveling

  faster than the speed of light—all these things paraded swiftly through Charlie's mind. He looked out across the low, rolling countryside, searching for the city and its people, their houses and other evidence of advanced civilization. But there was nothing. Only the hard bowl-like cradles in the surface surrounding the flagship, another couple of star ships nearby, resting in bowls similar to the one his own ship had come down in. Outside of that, and the aliens aboard going about the ship, there was no sign of civilization. Then as he wondered, the broad panoramic view before him slid silently, smoothly, down into the outside bulkhead of the tier! Charlie breathed in, slowly at first then deeply, of the warm and mildly-misted air. The air was fresh and sweet, and it was far nicer to smell than Charlie had anticipated.

  "The weather looks worse than it is, Nav," Charlie said aloud. "It's not so bad, even if it looks like it'll rain any minute. It sure smells good, Nav .. ."

  Anxious not only to see what his future might possibly be, but to get Navajo outside and turn him loose on some of that fresh looking and dew-frosted greenness, Charlie turned to go—just as two aliens entered from the airlift.

  Come with us, their impulses ordered.

  As he followed the two aliens to the airlift tube, his curiosity got the best of him. He was no longer able to hold back the biggest question in his mind as the airlift began to lower.

  "I don't see any buildings anywhere—"

  "Chew that," the impulse told him, as one alien handed him a small ball of colored gum. "Chew and keep your

  mouth open if possible, then you shall not be bothered by the first pressures."

  He took the gum, and began chewing as both of them were now doing. He could already feel the pressure in his ears. All too soon he realized as he chewed harder, that the airlift had not just lowered to the ground outside then stopped. It had kept right on going, and at a higher rate of speed. The big discus ship had coupled with the bowl-like cradling ramp, and the ship had merely become the "cap" on an already- waiting elevator shaft, and it was down that great shaft now that Charlie found himself shooting fast, into the alien world of Saturn, rather than on it!

  Chewing faster as the pressure made his ears pop again, Charlie felt a little worried now as he glanced at the two aliens standing near him.

  "It won't be too long, Primitive," came the impulse from one of the aliens in answer to the question in his mind. "In a little while we shall reach the first tier, and get out on the main level of the Capitol City."

  "You mean, sir, it's an underground city?" Charlie asked.

  "Yes. It is one of many such cities of the Barrier World, all of which are beneath the surface, Primitive. You shall soon have your first sight of a city of tiers."

  "City of tiers . . ." Charlie repeated the words aloud. He couldn't help but think how well the name fitted their world, as he spoke the words.

  Then he was embarrassed, knowing the two alien men had listened to his thought. They were solemnly looking at him, but turned their faces away as he glanced at them. But in that

  brief glance he had seen the expression on their faces, and once again he was keenly aware of their world's longing for clear light from the Sun they called their own.

  Neither of the two aliens looked at him again as the airlift came swiftly to a swaying halt. Obeying their impulse, he followed them out onto a modernistic, broad paved street, a street on which there were hundreds of other aliens going in every direction. They were dressed in varying types of the net shirts, toga cloaks and the comfortable-looking shorts, and there was more color everywhere than he had ever seen before. It was a rainbow world of people, their clothes, their buildings, everything in the vast cavern that was the underground city. He could understand their liking for brightness and color, in a land where the Sun never shone.

  Unable to keep down his growing curiosity, Charlie stared at the great towering stretches of underground space, the all-circular buildings everywhere that spiraled up from the broad floor of the city to the underground sky, a man-made ceiling. But it must have been at least a thousand feet high, for most of the buildings reached all the way up to the artificial sky, climbing tier after tier till they touched that ceiling. The buildings were like star ships stacked one on top of the other, Charlie thought, and the wide panoramic band of windows that circled each tier or floor of the houses was completely frosted. He could see into none.

  "People can look out," came the informative impulse to Charlie's unspoken question. "But in regard for privacy and the laws concerning it, due to the proximity of the dwellings, no one can look into the tier of another's home.

  However, from the inside, all people can see out clearly in all directions."

  "Oh," Charlie said, "it's a one-way kind of glass—I know how that works. Thanks a lot, sir, for telling me."

  As he looked about further, Charlie noticed there was no such thing as a sidewalk, and the buildings were built up out of the city's "floor," which
smooth surface ran right up to the entrances of the buildings. He also noted that all the streets were a series of broad winding "S" roads that zig-zagged their wavery course outward and away from what seemed to be the center of the city, where they were right now.

  In each bend of the S-shaped streets there was one of the high towers of tiers, all of which were anything from a half dozen stories high, up to around twenty for the taller houses that just about touched the inland sky. Nowhere did Charlie see a light bulb of any sort, but only the indirect glow of the chemical lighting, of which the nearest thing back on Earth was fluorescent light tubes. Chemistry had gone far in the world of Saturn, where electric power was known but thought dangerous, while great energy was easily accessible for everything through the long use of fissionables.

  "There are some forty million dwellers," one guard replied to Charlie's thought, "in this, the Capitol City."

  He thanked the man, still following after them. Just as he spoke, they paused before a small, squat building of only three very wide tiers. Indicating the open, circular entrance, the guards followed in after Charlie. Most of the furnishings, as he glanced around, were low, close to the floor, and all circular. He compared it to a cross between something out of

  The Arabian Nights and a roomful of modern Japanese furniture, such as he once saw in a city store. Colorful cushions, low-back chairs and small tables were everywhere about the polished flooring. And again, he noticed that everything was brilliantly colored, like the clothes of the people outside.

  "You are called here until the Council's decision can be reached concerning your future circumstances," one alien told Charlie.

  As Charlie glanced toward the door, the aliens read his thought.

  "We only cage animals in our world," said one of them. "Beings of reason and intelligence are not caged here, Primitive. You shall, however, consider your person confined to these premises until further ruling."

  "Yes sir."

  "To your thought," the other alien said as they paused at the entrance, "your animal will be cared for properly. After the decision is reached, then perhaps you may see the animal again."

  About to protest, Charlie held back his anger at not being allowed to see Navajo right now. Just as the two left, he had a sudden thought and rushed to the doorway.

  "Hey—I want to ask you something!"

  The two aliens turned and started back, even as passersby stopped to stare at Charlie, looking him over curiously.

  "Will—do you think the Council will let me go home again . . . maybe?"

  The two of them looked at him for some moments before replying. Then finally, one sent the curt mental impulse:

  "Your home is here, for however long the Council may decide to let you live. It is up to them, the governing body of this planet."

  Turning their backs abruptly, the two strode off, soon being obscured by the many people on the broad curving streets. The lost feeling returned to Charlie stronger than ever now as he stood there, staring out unseeingly at the many people, the sudden moisture in his eyes blurring the colors before him. Then he became aware of the small crowd gathered, watching him. They were rapidly exchanging impulses, too fast for him to get, and as they talked they pointed at him and smiled.

  They were taking him for a curiosity, as though he were an ape from Africa, here in a zoo—instead of another human being. Even if he were from another planet it wasn't fair, for he was just like them.

  But in his sudden anger, Charlie couldn't help but notice that many of their impulses that he did catch were admiring ones, and at least one, in particular. They were admiring his tanned face and arms, and even in their subdued impulses Charlie could sense a feeling of awe and wonder, as they told each other he was actually "burned" like that, from living under pure Sun's light day and night. He realized how little they actually knew about general living conditions on his own Earth.

  Charlie caught, too, their furtive references to Star Project and Little Star, and he tried very hard to catch every impulse, to get the importance of what it meant to them. But he could not. For even they, these aliens on the street, were well aware

  of his origination, and the fact that he must not learn their world's secret. They abruptly cut off their thoughts on the subject, clamping down before his own probing impulses.

  As they continued to stare and point at him, Charlie suddenly lost control of his temper and shouted at them.

  "Why don't you go away—leave me alone! I'm no animal in a zoo!"

  Though the words shouted at them were not at all understood still the angry impulses were quite clear to them. And with the angry expression on his face, the aliens began to leave, heading off quickly in all directions. A little surprised, since he had not expected them to do what he wanted, Charlie stared wide-eyed as he watched them go. Then he understood. In a world where people could read each other's thoughts, the aliens held a high regard for personal privacy.

  From their scattered impulses as the people went their way, Charlie got the distinct impression from their disturbed feelings that he had scared them. They were actually afraid, not of him necessarily, but of what he'd said. His words had implied that they had invaded his personal privacy, which was apparently one of the worst things that could be done in their advanced philosophical society. From their furtive backward glances, Charlie was becoming aware of the importance a person's privacy held for them in this great civilization of the Barrier World. He began at that moment to like it a little bit.

  Feeling happy over his new discovery, Charlie watched a little longer at the door. As other aliens went past, they seemed to make a point of paying no attention to him, and

  acting as though he were not there, though he knew from their actions that they were very much aware of his presence. They did not stop.

  Going back into the circular room now, open though it was, he felt as if he were behind a locked door. Seeing a broad lounge off to one side, he touched it first to test it, then lay down, stretching himself out, face down, on it. Heaving a deep sigh, he realized as he yawned again, that aside from very few and brief rest periods aboard the discus ship, he had not slept very much at all in the past days. He had slept very little since leaving Little Star—Earth, he reminded himself.

  "I guess I’m even getting to think like an alien," he said aloud to himself. "Earth, Earth, Earth" he whispered, not wanting to forget anything that was connected with home.

  As he lay in the stillness, he turned over, just as the cold lighting throughout the streets outside began to dim slowly. He watched, realizing that he didn't have any idea at all how to turn on the lights in this house, if he needed to, as he watched the people through the clear one-way window. Now the street lighting outside was at a steady, low dimness. It was night in the Capitol City.

  He remembered how people marked the beginning of night and day, in their subterranean world, and how they knew when to go to bed, or, to take their rest period. Charlie had no idea how long he lay there, how many hours by Earth time he had actually slept. He awoke suddenly, sitting up, and wondered just what had made him jump. Looking outside, he could see that the streets were still dimly lit and deserted. Yes, he had been asleep.

  Navajo wasn’t anywhere around, or kicking down any barn door to get out, for there wasn't any barn. It was just a dream ... a dream about Navajo.

  In a sudden increasing concern Charlie jumped to his feet. He must do something—anything, to escape, to get away and find a way back home to Earth. He ran out onto the semi-dark and deserted street.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Trial

  Seeing one lone alien far up the street, Charlie slowed his trot and was about to duck out of sight, when he got a casual greeting from the elderly man.

  "You are the Primitive, young man? The Primitive from Little Star?"

  Sensing the friendly tone in the old man's curiosity, and his apparent unawareness of Charlie's intended escape, Charlie was about to shout an answer when he realized the
man was half a block away. He thought his answer, instead, and repeated his greeting as he approached the old man. Smiling, he asked what he was doing.

  "Safety guard," said the fellow. "Somebody has to maintain order and keep the vacuums going."

  "Oh, you're a—a sort of policeman?"

  Though Charlie spoke the words, still the Interplanetary language stood him in good stead, for it was the language understandable to anybody who had a mind of his own and the intelligence to use it.

  "Well, yes, young man. Also, the past day's dust and particles, such as these—" and he pointed about their feet. "These must be cleared from the avenues."

  Charlie looked about again, wondering where his broom and trash cart were. The old alien smiled and showed him.

  "Hey, boy, that sure is neat!" Charlie said as the public safety man pressed a large plate-size button set in the street near a building.

  The disc, built in the city's floor, made a powerful cross- surface vacuum along the street to the other side, and as Charlie watched, the surface all around was whisked clean as the scraps and dust were sucked into the long, narrow slots bordering the street on either side. Charlie now noticed them for the first time, and saw that these replaced the traditional gutters of his own world.