After the sad ceremony and a very short conference, Erg Noor changed Tantra’s course in the direction of Earth and switched on the anameson drive. Forty-eight hours later they were switched off again and the ship began to approach its home planet at the rate of 21,000 million kilometers per day. The journey back to the Sun would take about six terrestrial years. Everybody was busy on the bridge and in the ship’s combined library and laboratory, where a new course was being computed and plotted on the charts.
The task was to fly the whole six years using anameson only for course corrections. In other words the spaceship had to be flown with as little deceleration as possible. Everyone was worried about the unexplored area 344 + 2U that lay between the Sun and Tantra. There was no way of avoiding this: on both sides of it, as far as the Sun, lay belts of free meteoroids and apart from that they would lose velocity if they redirected the ship. Two months later the flight-course computation was complete. Tantra began to describe a long, flat curve.
The superb ship was in excellent condition and her speed was kept within the computed limits. Now nothing but time, about four dependent years, separated the ship from its home.
Erg Noor and Nisa Greet finished their watch and, dead tired, started their period of extended sleep. Together with the two astronomers, the geologist, biologist, physician and four engineers departed into temporary forgetfulness. The watch was taken over by Pel Lynn, an experienced astronavigator on his second expedition, assisted by astronomer Ingrid Dietra and electronic engineer Kay Bear, who had volunteered to join them. Ingrid, with Pel Lynn’s consent, often left for the library adjoining the bridge. She and her old friend, Kay Bear, were writing a monumental symphony, Death of a Planet, inspired by the tragedy of Zirda. Pel Lynn, whenever he tired of the hum of the instruments and his contemplation of the black cosmic void, left Ingrid at the control desk and plunged into the thrilling task of deciphering puzzling inscriptions from a planet in the system of the nearest stars of Centaur, whose inhabitants had mysteriously abandoned it. He believed in the success of his impossible undertaking….
Twice watches were changed, the ship had drawn ten billion kilometers nearer Earth and the anameson engines had only been activated for a few hours.
One of Pel Lynn’s watches, the fourth since Tantra had left the place where she was to have met Algrab, was coming to an end. Ingrid Dietrahad finished a calculation and turned to Pel Lynn who was watching, with melancholy mien, the constant flickering of the red arrows on the graded blue scales of the gravitation dials. The usual sluggishness of psychic reaction that not even the strongest people could avoid made itself felt during the second half of the watch. For months and years the ship had been automatically piloted along a given course. If anything untoward had happened, something that the controls were incapable of dealing with, it would have meant the loss of the ship. Human intervention could not have saved it, since the human brain, no matter bow well-trained, cannot react with the necessary alacrity.
“In my opinion we are already deep in the unknown area 344 + 2U. The commander wanted to take over the watch himself when we got there,” said Ingrid. Pel Lynn glanced up at the counter that marked off the days. “Another two days and we change watches. So far there doesn’t seem to be anything to worry about. Shall we see the watch through?”
Ingrid nodded assent. Kay Bear came into the control tower from the stern of the ship and took his usual seat beside the equilibrium mechanism. Pel Lynn yawned and stood up. “I’ll get some sleep for a couple of hours,” he said to Ingrid. She got up obediently and went forward to the control desk.
Tantra was travelling smoothly in an absolute vacuum. Not a single meteoroid, not even at a great distance, had been registered by the supersensitive Voll Hoad detectors. The ship’s course now lay somewhat to one side of’ the Sun, about one and a half light-years. The screens of the forward scanners registered an astounding blackness. It seemed as though the spaceship was diving into the very heart of universal darkness. The side telescopes still showed needles of light from countless stars.
Ingrid’s nerves tingled with a strange sensation of alarm. She returned to her computers and telescopes, again and again checked their readings as she mapped the unknown area. Everything was quiet but still Ingrid could not take her eyes from the malignant blackness ahead of the ship. Kay Bear noticed her anxiety and for a long time studied and listened to the instruments. “I don’t see anything,” he said at last, “aren’t you imagining things?” “I don’t know why, but that unusual blackness ahead of us bothers me. I think our ship is diving straight into a dark nebula.” < … >
The long shrill of a bell made them all start. Ingrid grabbed Kay Bear.
Tantra was in danger! The gravitation was double the computed figure!
The astronavigator turned pale. The unexpected had happened and an immediate decision was essential. The fate of the spaceship was in his hands. The steadily increasing gravitational pull made a reduction in speed necessary, both because of increasing weight in the ship and an apparent accumulation of solid matter in the ship’s path. But after reducing speed what would they use for further acceleration? Pel Lynn clenched his teeth and turned the lever that started the ion trigger motors used for braking. Gong-like sounds disturbed the melody of the measuring dials and drowned the alarming ring of those recording the ratio of gravitational pull to velocity. The ringing ceased and the indicators showed that speed had been reduced to a safe level and was normal for the growing gravitation. But no sooner had Pel Lynn switched off the brake engines than the bells began ringing again. Obviously the spaceship was flying directly into a powerful gravitation pool which was slowing it down.
The astronavigator did not dare change the course that had been plotted with such difficulty and precision. He used the planetary engines to brake the ship again although it was already clear that there had been an error in plotting the course and that it lay through an unknown mass of matter.
“The gravitational field is truly great,” said Ingrid softly, “perhaps …”
“We must slow down still more so as to be able to turn,” exclaimed the navigator, “but what can we accelerate with after that? …”
There was a note of fatal hesitancy in his words. “We have already passed the zone of outer vortices,” Ingrid told him, “gravitation is increasing rapidly all the time.” The frequent clatter of the planet engines resounded through the ship; the electronic ship’s pilot switched them on automatically as it felt a huge accumulation of solid matter in front of them. Tantra began to pitch and toss. No matter how much the ship’s speed was reduced the people in the control tower began to lose consciousness. Ingrid fell to her knees. Pel Lynn, sitting in his chair, tried to raise a head as heavy as lead. Kay Bear experienced a mixture of unreasoning brute fear and puerile hopelessness.
The thuds of the motors increased in frequency until they merged into a continual roar—the electronic brain had taken up the struggle in place of its semi-conscious masters: it was a powerful brain but it had its limits, it could not foretell all possible complications and find a way out of unusual situations.
The tossing abated. The indicators showed that the supply of ion charges for the motors was dropping with catastrophic rapidity. As Pel Lynn came to consciousness, he realized that the strange increase of gravity was taking place so fast that urgent measures had to be taken to stop the ship and then make a complete change of course away from the black void. He turned the handle switching on the anameson engines. Four tall cylinders of boron nitride that could be seen through a slit in the control desk were lit up from inside. A bright green flame beat inside them with lightning speed, it flowed and whirled in four tight spirals. Up forward, in the nose of the spaceship, a strong magnetic field enveloped the engine jets, saving them from instantaneous destruction.
The astronavigator moved the handle farther—through the whirling green wall of light a directing ray appeared, a grayish stream of K-particles. Another movement and the gray
stream was cut by a blinding flash of violet lightning, a signal that the anameson had begun its tempestuous emission. The huge bulk of the spaceship responded with an almost inaudible, unbearable, high-frequency vibration….
Erg Noor had eaten the necessary amount of food and was lying half asleep enjoying the indescribably pleasurable sensation of an electric nerve massage. The veil of forgetfulness that still covered mind and body left him very slowly. The music of animation changed to a major key and to a rhythm that increased in rapidity …
Suddenly something evil coming from without interrupted the joy of awakening from a ninety-day sleep. Erg Noor realized that he was commander of the expedition and struggled desperately to get back to normal consciousness. At last he recognized the fact that the spaceship was being braked and that the anameson engines were switched on, all of which meant that something serious had occurred. He tried to get up. His body still would not obey his will, his legs doubled under him and he collapsed like a sack on the floor of his cabin. After some time he managed to crawl to the door and open it. Consciousness was breaking through the mist of sleep—in the corridor he rose on all fours and made his way into the control tower.
The people staring at the screens and instrument dials looked round in alarm and then ran to their commander. He was not yet able to stand but he muttered: “The screens … the forward screen … switch over to infrared … shut the engines!”
The borason cylinders were extinguished at the same time as the vibration of the ship’s hull ceased. A gigantic star, burning with a dull reddish-brown light, appeared on the forward star-board screen. For a moment they were all flabbergasted and could not take their eyes off the enormous disc that emerged from the darkness directly ahead of the spaceship.
“Oh, what a fool!” exclaimed Pel Lynn bitterly, “I was sure we were in a dark nebula! And that’s …”
“An iron star!” exclaimed Ingrid Dietra in horror.
Erg Noor, holding on to the back of a chair, stood up. His usually pale face had a bluish tinge to it but his eyes gleamed brightly with their usual fire.
“Yes, that’s an iron star,” he said slowly and the eyes of all those in the room turned to him in fear and hope, “the terror of astronauts! Nobody suspected that there would be one in this area.”
“I only thought about a nebula,” Pel Lynn said softly and guiltily.
“A dark nebula with such a gravitational field would contain comparatively large solid particles and Tantra would have been destroyed already. It would be impossible to avoid a collision in such a swarm,” said the commander in a calm, firm voice.
“But these sharp gravitational changes and vortices—aren’t they a direct indication of a cloud?”
“Or that the star has a planet, perhaps more than one….” The astronavigator bit his lip so badly that it began to bleed. The commander nodded his head encouragingly and himself pressed the buttons to awaken the others.
“A report of observations as quickly as possible! We’ll work out the gravitation contours.”
The spaceship began to rock again. Something flashed across the screen with colossal speed, something of terrific size that passed behind them and disappeared.
“There’s the answer, we’ve overtaken a planet. Hurry up, hurry up, get the work done!” The commander’s glance fell on the fuel supply indicator. His hands gripped the back of the chair more tightly, he was going to say something but refrained.
CHAPTER TWO:
EPSILON TUCANAE
The faint tinkle of glass that came from the table was accompanied by orange and blue lights. Varicolored lights sparkled up and down the transparent partition. Darr Veter, Director of the Outer Stations of the Great Circle, was observing the lights on the Spiral Way. Its immense curved into the heights and scored a dull yellow line along the sea-coast. Keeping his eyes on the Way, Darr Veter stretched out his hand and turned a lever to point M, ensuring himself solitude for meditation. A great change had on that day come into his life. His successor Mven Mass, chosen by the Astronautical Council, had arrived that morning from the southern residential belt.
They would carry out his last transmission to the Circle together and then … it was precisely this “then” that had not yet been settled. For six years Veter had been doing a job demanding superhuman effort. This was work for which the Council selected extraordinary people, those who were distinguished by superb memories and encyclopedic knowledge. When he began to experience attacks of complete indifference to work and to life with ominous frequency—and this is one of the most serious ailments of man—Veter had been examined by Evda Nahl, a noted psychiatrist. A proven remedy—melancholy strains of minor music in a room of blue dreams saturated with pacifying waves—hadn’t helped. The only thing left was to change his work and take a course of physical labor, anything that demanded daily, hourly muscular effort. His best friend, the historian Veda Kong, had offered him an opportunity to do archaeological work with her. Machines couldn’t do all the excavation work, the final stage required human hands. Veda had promised him a long trip to a region of the ancient steppes where he would be close to nature.
If only Veda Kong … but of course, he knew the whole story. Veda was in love with Erg Noor, Member of the Astronautical Council and Commander of Cosmic Expedition No. 37. There should have been a message from Erg Noor—he should have reported from Zirda and said whether he was going farther. But since no message had come—and all space fights were computed with the greatest precision—then … but no, he must not think of winning Veda’s love! The Vector of Friendship, that was all, that was the greatest tie that there could be between them.
Nevertheless he would go and work for her. Darr Veter moved a lever, pressed a button and the room was flooded with light. A crystal window formed one of the walls of this room situated high above land and sea, giving a view over a great distance. With a turn of another lever Darr Veter caused the window to open inwards, leaving the room open to the starry sky; the window frame blocked the lights of the Spiral Way and the buildings and lighthouses on the sea-coast.
Veter’s eyes were fixed on the hands of the galactic clock with its with three concentric, subdivided rings. Information transmission in the Great Circle followed galactic time, every one hundred-thousandth of a galactic second, or once in eight days, forty-five times a year according to terrestrial time. One revolution of the Galaxy around its axis equaled one day of galactic time.
The next and, for Veter, the final transmission would be at 9 a.m. Tibetan Mean Time or at 2 a.m. at the Mediterranean Council Observatory. A little more than two hours still remained.
The instrument on the table tinkled and flashed again. A man in silky light-colored clothing appeared from behind the partition.
“We’re ready to transmit and receive,” he said briefly. He showed no outward signs of deference, but in his eyes one could read admiration for his Director. Darr Veter did not say a word, nor did his assistant who stood by, confident and relaxed.
“In the Cubic Hall?” asked Veter at last, and, receiving an answer in the affirmative, asked where Mven Mass was.
“He’s in the Morning Freshness Room, getting tuned up after his journey and, apart from that, I think he’s a little excited.”
“In his place I’d be excited myself” said Darr Veter, thoughtfully. “That’s how I felt six years ago.
“The assistant flushed with the effort necessary to preserve his outward calm. With all the fire of youth he was sorry for his chief, perhaps realizing that some day he too would experience the joys and sorrows of work and great responsibility. The Station Director didn’t show his feelings in any way, at his age it wasn’t considered decent. “When Mven Mass appears, bring him straight to me.” The assistant left the room.< … >
Darr Veter closed the shutters and turned to meet his successor. Mven Mass entered the room with long strides. The cast of his features and his smooth, dark-brown skin revealed his African ancestry. A white mantle fell from his p
owerful shoulders in heavy folds. Mven Mass took both Darr Veter’s hands in his strong, slender ones. The two Directors of the Outer Space Stations, the new and the old, were both very tall. Veter, whose genealogy led back to the Russian people, seemed broader and more massive than the graceful African.
“It seems to me that something important is happening today,” began Mven Mass, with the trusting sincerity typical of humans in the Era of the Great Circle. Darr Veter shrugged his shoulders. “Important things are happening for three people. I’m handing over my work, you’re taking over for me and Veda Kong will speak to the Universe for the first time.”
“She is beautiful’” responded Mven Mass, half questioning, half affirming.
“You’ll see her. By the way, there’s nothing special about today’s transmission. Veda will give a lecture on our history for planet KRZ 664456 + BS 3252.”
Mven Mass made an astonishingly rapid mental calculation. “Constellation of the Unicorn, star Ross 614, its planetary system has been known from time immemorial but has never in any way distinguished itself. I love the old names and old words,” he added with a scarcely detectable note of apology.
“The Council knows how to select people,” Darr Veter thought to himself. Aloud he said:
“Then you’ll get on well with Junius Antus, the Director of the Memory Banks. He calls himself the Director of the Memory Lamps. He’s not thinking of the lamps they used for light in ancient days but of those first electronic devices in clumsy glass envelopes with the air pumped out of them.”
Mven Mass laughed so heartily and frankly that Darr Veter could feel his liking for the man growing rapidly.
“Memory lamps! Our memory network consists of kilometers of corridors lined with billions of cells.” He suddenly checked himself. “I’m letting my emotion run away with me and haven’t found out about essentials. When did Ross first speak?”
“Fifty-two years ago. Since then they ‘ve mastered the language of the Great Circle. Only four parsecs away from us. They’ll receive Veda’s lecture in thirteen years.”
Worlds Apart Page 89
