Jay recrossed his legs and thoughtfully rubbed his smooth chin. Steve watched him, trying hard to concentrate on what Jay was saying. But to have this man sitting so comfortably beside him with no visible support was at that moment more astounding than anything else. He looked down at his own legs, one on the floor, the other outstretched. What was supporting him?
Suddenly Flick appeared in front of the nearest wall, and Jay called out to him, “Well, Flick, I guess you’re satisfied that we can go now, aren’t you?”
“Not in the least,” the other answered, nodding to Steve and then sitting down beside him. “The screen shows plenty of lights there. We haven’t a chance of landing without being seen.”
“So what?” Jay asked defiantly. “You’ll be back here before they know what it’s all about.”
Flick shook his head. “It’ll cause talk, though, and that we must avoid. You know the rules, Jay, as well as I do, and we’d be taking a very unnecessary risk going at this hour.”
Jay glared at him. “Unnecessary to you but not to us,” he bellowed. “After all, Flick, you promised.”
“I promised a good many things that I never should have,” Flick returned gravely. “However, that can’t be helped now, and I mean to go through with it but not at the expense of the ship’s being seen. You and Steve will just have to put off going until tomorrow.”
“I don’t know if Steve would come back,” Jay said sullenly. “After all, this is a pretty unusual thing for him to be doing.”
Steve said nothing. He remembered how he had tried to steer the launch off course just before reaching the patch, how at the last moment he had sought the normalcy of his own world. Yet now he was in this ship, startled and astounded by all he saw but seated quietly, waiting for Jay and Flick to decide what to do because he had arrived late. But would he have the courage to return tomorrow?
Jay rose to his feet and began pacing the great room. Finally he stopped in front of Flick and said, “We’d better have Steve spend the night with us.”
Flick jumped to his feet. “Jay!” he said sharply. “Remaining on the ship is out of the question. Why …”
He stopped abruptly and wheeled around, facing the far wall. Steve’s gaze shifted with Flick’s, and he saw the tapestries billowing as if a great wind had swept the room. Somehow he knew that they were upset by the noise in the room and by the very suggestion that he should spend the night there. Without saying a word he got to his feet.
“Now, Steve,” Jay said softly. “Don’t you go getting upset, too. It’s bad enough to have Flick raging around here without your doing it as well. Sit down, please.”
After Steve was seated again, Jay turned to Flick. “If you won’t agree to his spending the night, it must be now or never, Flick.”
“I’m afraid it must be never then,” Flick answered, matching Jay’s defiance.
“You’d break a promise?”
“I would when it involves the disturbance and talk we’d create by moving the ship at night,” Flick answered more calmly. “After all, Jay, you know as well as I do that the little glimpse these people have had recently of our cruisers have been trouble enough. If we’re not careful we won’t be allowed to visit Earth any more.”
“Oh, pshaw,” Jay said. “The cruisers couldn’t upset anyone.”
“If that’s the way you feel, why don’t you take ours then?” Flick suggested reasonably. “You’re perfectly right … probably no one will even see you.”
“It would be much too small and uncomfortable with Flame in it,” Jay answered after a moment’s thought.
Flick smiled critically. “So now you’re thinking of the few discomforts you may have to endure while helping Steve to race his horse. My, Jay, you are the one, aren’t you?”
Jay shifted uneasily and avoided looking at Steve when he said, “One doesn’t like to be cramped.”
“Of course not,” Flick answered, still smiling. “Let’s not suffer any discomforts while helping our fellow man.”
“You know we wouldn’t have room to move even the slightest bit,” Jay said sheepishly.
“Terrible,” Flick agreed sadly. “And for just those few minutes it would take to get there!”
“Steve wouldn’t like to go that way at all!” Jay returned, a little defiantly.
“Wouldn’t you, Steve?” Flick asked, turning to the boy.
Steve said, “I don’t care how we go. Flame didn’t have room to move in the launch, either.”
Flick chuckled. “See, Jay? I hope you’ll learn something from all this. In fact, you might change quite a bit before you’re through with Steve and Flame.”
“All right,” Jay said finally, “if that’s the only way you’ll have it. But it’s not going to be very comfortable.” He got to his feet. “Come on, Steve,” he added resignedly.
“Oh, just one thing more,” Flick said, enjoying his moment of triumph. “You must promise not to take any unnecessary chances when you’re with … ah … with other people.”
“I promise,” Jay said angrily. “Of course I promise.”
“And if I send for you, you’ll come straight back whether the race has been run or not?” Flick asked, more serious now.
“Of course!” Jay screamed at the top of his voice. “Anything else, Flick? Anything else?”
At Jay’s loud words, Steve saw the hanging tapestries boil into a turmoil of seething, angry crimson again. Instinctively his footsteps quickened to catch up with Jay’s.
Together they went toward the great red stallion, who stood silently awaiting them.
AND A STAR TO GUIDE HER BY
11
Jay turned Flame’s head to one side so the stallion could see Steve. “Now take him inside,” he said quietly.
The lines of the hackamore were placed in Steve’s hands and he felt the heat of Flame’s blood flowing through them. Stepping back into the colorless veil from which he had entered the room, he was conscious once more of the sudden brightness that burned his eyes. Then it was gone and there was neither light nor darkness, only a deep sense of vast, empty space all around him. He could see nothing, no part of himself or Flame or Jay.
“Careful of that tank, Steve!” Jay said impatiently.
Steve stopped in his tracks and waited.
“What’s wrong?” Jay asked more kindly.
From somewhere behind them Flick said scornfully, “You’ve forgotten again that Steve can’t see a thing in this port, Jay.”
For a moment heavy silence filled the vastness, and then Jay said, “Sorry, Steve. Details again, at which I’ve admitted my shortcomings.”
Steve felt Jay’s hand on his arm, guiding him to the left. He was not certain but he thought he saw a faint glow just ahead. He looked harder, wanting to see.
Jay mumbled something about untrained eyes, and Flick asked gravely, “Where do you think we’d be if their eyes were trained?”
“Not here, sure enough,” Jay answered.
“Then don’t ever forget it again. Now I’ll check the screen once more. Don’t leave until I get back.”
Steve continued looking at the shimmering glow. Was it not growing? A few moments more and his eyes began to burn fiercely and he had to turn away.
Jay said, “I guess we might as well get aboard, Steve, although I don’t like the idea of spending any more time than necessary in there. However, Flick should be back any second now. Come, follow me.”
Steve didn’t move, for Jay’s hand had left his shoulder. “Where?” he asked.
“Why, right here, of course,” and once more Jay’s hand was on his arm.
Steve took a step forward, at the same time trying desperately to pierce the void. It was as though he were walking with closed eyelids, actually seeing nothing but conscious of a whole world about him.
“Lower Flame’s head a little, Steve. Unfortunately this door wasn’t meant for anyone but ourselves and we’re a small race, as you know. However, if I raise this top partition he’ll be a
ble to make it. Sometimes we do have to carry a bit of cargo in these cruisers … never very comfortably though,” Jay added with a twinge of regret.
Steve heard a soft whirring noise. Once again he concentrated on the area directly before him. It had to be there, somewhere.
For what seemed a long while he saw nothing, then the small glow appeared again, spreading more rapidly than before. His eyes began to burn but he refused to turn away this time. And he saw it was no glow at all but a thin, liquid mass. It was an elongated bubble, growing brighter and larger, glistening in his eyes and setting them afire. Then suddenly it seemed to burst in his face and he turned away quickly to avoid its spitting, liquid fingers.
Nothing touched him. Nothing burned except his eyes, and he wondered if he would ever be able to see again. Then he heard Jay’s voice.
“There, Steve, Flame should be able to get through now. Just lower his head a bit more.”
Steve dropped his right hand, feeling the weight of Flame’s head at the end of the lines. Didn’t Jay know that for a few seconds he had actually seen the cruiser?
“Come, Steve. I’m anxious to be off the second Flick returns. We’ve wasted enough time already.”
Steve was led forward and when they came to a stop he knew they were inside the cruiser.
“I’ll take Flame now,” Jay said. “My, this is going to be a most uncomfortable trip!”
The lines were removed from Steve’s hand, but Jay did not take Flame away. Instead, Steve heard the man’s soft, birdlike mutterings. Finally Jay said, “There, he’s resting again. It’ll be safest during the trip.”
And from outside came Flick’s voice, “All right, Jay. There are no lights except in the village. Be sure to land to the east of it.”
“Of course,” Jay answered bitterly. “I had no intention of landing anywhere else. Really, Flick …” He stopped without finishing his sentence, and then said to Steve, “Sit down, but move more to your right, please, so I’ll have a little room for my legs. That’s it.”
“Remember what I said about taking no unnecessary chances,” Flick warned.
“Of course,” Jay said. “Don’t worry so, Flick.”
Flick grunted. “You’re all set then?”
“As set as we’ll ever be in this thing,” Jay muttered. “At least we don’t have to take Steve’s launch now. That’s something to be thankful for.”
Steve heard the soft whirring noise again and knew the cruiser’s door was being closed. Any moment now and they’d be off! His heart pounded at the thought. One hand left his side, reaching high and groping until it found Flame.”
The fear within him said, “Here you go, never to return.”
“Don’t be silly,” he answered. “They’re my friends.”
“You’ll never see your real friends again. Do you think any of your friends would change places with you? Of course not!”
“They would if they were here, if they had looked into Jay’s and Flick’s eyes.”
“What a child you are to believe that.”
Steve felt the hot blood rushing through his body. “I’m no child,” he said defiantly. “I’m big, as big as anyone could be because of their help. I’m the luckiest fellow in this world! I’m not afraid!”
The cruiser moved.
There was no blinding glare of atomic or hydrogen power, no great roar for which Steve had prepared himself. He was aware at first only of rocking gently backwards in his seat and of the swaying of Flame’s great body beneath his hand. Then there was no movement at all. Nothing but deathly silence. No hum of powerful engines, no darkness, no light. Everything was the same as before, and yet he knew they were on their way.
Jay said, “You’re not even looking, Steve. I thought you’d like to see where we’re going.”
“But there’s nothing to see,” Steve protested.
Jay chuckled. “There is, if you’ll just turn your head and look out the window.”
Steve turned quickly and looked out into a night sky studded with multitude upon multitude of stars. They were very bright and there were many more than he had ever seen before. But otherwise he could have been back in Blue Valley looking up at the heavens.
He felt no sense of flight and yet, he figured, they must be traveling at frightening speed to go almost two thousand miles in a matter of a few minutes. He steeled himself to peer below … as one would have done from a very precarious height with no secure hold. Yet there was nothing to be seen below.
“Where are we?” he asked.
Jay laughed again. “Straight up,” he said. “We literally hop, just as I told you. Up and then down. Faster that way and less chance to be seen, scarcely any friction at all. We learned long ago not to cruise below. Your people always mistake us for something else.”
“And your people, Jay, where are they?” Steve asked, his eyes fixed once more on the splendor and brilliance of the sky. “Is Alula one of those?”
“Oh, no, Steve. We’re much further beyond. What you see is nothing. You’ve no idea what lies beyond.”
“No … no, I haven’t,” Steve said, patting Flame.
“This is only your galaxy,” Jay went on, “nine planets and something like a hundred thousand million stars. Flick would know the exact figures. I’m always a little hazy on things like that.”
“Is there other life on our planets?”
“Life? I told you once before that nothing is ever really dead, Steve.”
“But people, Jay … are there other people?”
“People? No, no people, Steve. You have to go beyond for that.” Jay moved his legs, brushing against Steve’s. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m trying to get rid of a bad cramp. If you’d just move your right leg a bit more. There, that’s better. Oh, this is the worst kind of discomfort!”
Steve said nothing, and Jay added, “But thank goodness we’re just about there.”
Silence again closed upon them, silence and always the stars, but now Steve was aware of movement for the first time since take-off. Not the cruiser’s movement, but the quick shifting of the heavens. The stars began to slip by, slowly at first and then more rapidly until they were no longer stars but long, fiery tails streaming through the night sky.
Steve did not need to be told that the cruiser was descending.
Jay said with relief, “Another few seconds now, Steve. Sit back, please.”
But Steve couldn’t sit back, for the stars were gone. In their place was his world, the sea and the land beyond. Not just the tiny specks he knew must be the islands of the Greater Antilles but the great, bulging masses of North and South America as well.
Then, as with the stars, the two continents were gone. Only the sea remained and the one small island that grew rapidly before his eyes. Still and silent it awaited them, a land of papier-mâché mountains and heavier-than-night depths.
Suddenly the land and sea became alive. Distant lights that were not stars twinkled in cities and scattered villages. Cars moved across a great plain. A boat pushed its prow into the sea, churning white the dark waters before it while the smoke from its lone stack billowed gray in the night sky.
There was a quickening blur before Steve’s eyes and then he saw nothing. Startled, he drew back, afraid that they were about to crash into the earth. He felt the forward swaying of his body, then a sudden backward jerk, and his left hand went up involuntarily to his neck.
“Sorry, Steve,” Jay apologized, “but I did tell you to sit back in your seat. At any rate we’re here, safe and sound … except for my legs which feel as if they belong to somebody else.”
Steve felt Jay’s legs withdraw from beside his own. Then once more he heard the whirring sound and knew the door was being opened.
A sudden rush of night air filled the cruiser, and it felt good upon his face. He remained still, knowing that Jay would tell him when to leave. He heard Jay’s soft murmurings to Flame, quickly followed by a throaty snort from the stallion.
“S-sh, Flame,” Ja
y reprimanded the horse. “Take him out, Steve.”
Steve rose to his feet, seeing nothing and wondering where he should go to find the door. He waited and finally Jay took him by the arm again.
“I keep forgetting, Steve. This way.” Jay chuckled softly. “A few more steps and I won’t have to lead you around like a blind man. I imagine you’ll be grateful for that, too.”
Steve emerged into a small clearing in a heavily wooded area. Flame jumped beside him, neighing shrilly, and Jay hushed the stallion again.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said to Steve, leading the way.
Steve followed, with Flame moving restlessly alongside, his head high, his eyes glaring, but never pulling upon the lines.
At the end of the clearing, Jay stopped. “Dash it,” he said, “I’ve forgotten my bag. Hold on a minute, Steve.”
Steve watched Jay run across the clearing. He sought to train his eyes to see the cruiser, if only by the slight gleam of a bubble to fix its location. But he saw nothing, and meanwhile Jay disappeared from sight long before reaching the trees.
Flame snorted again, and Steve turned back to him. The stallion’s nostrils were flared widely, sniffing unfamiliar scents. Steve stroked him softly, comforting him, and Flame turned his head at the boy’s touch, nuzzling his hand before once more shattering the night air with a shrill whistle.
Jay returned, carrying a large bag. “It wouldn’t be wise to be found here,” he told Steve anxiously. “Can’t you keep him quiet? I’ve done all I can, and he continues making enough noise to wake up the countryside! We’ll have the dogs on us, if he keeps it up.”
Jay hurried through the trees, and Steve led Flame after him without answering. The stallion continued his neighing but otherwise gave Steve no trouble.
They walked a long while, emerging from the trees to follow a deep ditch, then climbing out and entering the woods again. Steve had no doubt that Jay knew exactly where he was going. When they finally reached a dirt road, they were perspiring and breathing heavily. But Flame seemed tireless; he pressed on, impatient at their slowing footsteps, snorting loudly and neighing.
The Island Stallion Races Page 10
