Expedition to Earth
Page 15
“It is well for your people, Yaan, that your world is here at the frontier of the Universe. You may escape the doom that waits for us. One day, perhaps, your ships will go searching among the stars as we have done, and they may come upon the ruins of our worlds and wonder who we were. But they will never know that we met here by this river when your race was young.
“Here come my friends; they would give me no more time. Good-by, Yaan—use well the things I have left you. They are your world’s greatest treasures.”
Something huge, something that glittered in the starlight, was sliding down from the sky. It did not reach the ground, but came to rest a little way above the surface, and in utter silence a rectangle of light opened in its side. The shining giant appeared out of the night and stepped through the golden door. Bertrond followed, pausing for a moment at the threshold to wave back at Yaan. Then the darkness closed behind him.
No more swiftly than smoke drifts upward from a fire, the ship lifted away. When it was so small that Yaan felt he could hold it in his hands, it seemed to blur into a long line of light slanting upward into the stars. From the empty sky a peal of thunder echoed over the sleeping land; and Yaan knew at last that the gods were gone and would never come again.
For a long time he stood by the gently moving waters, and into his soul there came a sense of loss he was never to forget and never to understand. Then, carefully and reverently, he collected together the gifts that Bertrond had left.
Under the stars, the lonely figure walked homeward across a nameless land. Behind him the river flowed softly to the sea, winding through the fertile plains on which, more than a thousand centuries ahead, Yaan’s descendants would build the great city they were to call Babylon.
Loophole
From: President.
To: Secretary, Council of Scientists.
I have been informed that the inhabitants of Earth have succeeded in releasing atomic energy and have been making experiments with rocket propulsion. This is most serious. Let me have a full report immediately. And make it brief this time.
K.K. IV.
From: Secretary, Council of Scientists.
To: President.
The facts are as follows: Some months ago our instruments detected intense neutron emission from Earth, but an analysis of radio programs gave no explanation at the time. Three days ago a second emission occurred, and soon afterward all radio transmissions from Earth announced that atomic bombs were in use in the current war. The translators have not completed their interpretation, but it appears that the bombs are of considerable power. Two have so far been used. Some details of their construction have been released, but the elements concerned have not yet been identified. A fuller report will be forwarded as soon as possible. For the moment all that is certain is that the inhabitants of Earth have liberated atomic power, so far only explosively.
Very little is known concerning rocket research on Earth. Our astronomers have been observing the planet carefully ever since radio emissions were detected a generation ago. It is certain that long-range rockets of some kind are in existence on Earth, for there have been numerous references to them in recent military broadcasts. However, no serious attempt has been made to reach interplanetary space. When the war ends, it is expected that the inhabitants of the planet may carry out research in this direction. We will pay very careful attention to their broadcasts and the astronomical watch will be rigorously enforced.
From what we have inferred of the planet’s technology, it should require about twenty years before Earth develops atomic rockets capable of crossing space. In view of this, it would seem that the time has come to set up a base on the Moon, so that a close scrutiny can be kept on such experiments when they commence.
Trescon.
The war on Earth has now ended, apparently owing to the intervention of the atomic bomb. This will not affect the above arguments but it may mean that the inhabitants of Earth can devote themselves to pure research again more quickly than expected. Some broadcasts have already pointed out the application of atomic power to rocket propulsion.
T.
From: President
To: Chief of Bureau of Extra-Planetary Security.
(C.B.E.P.S.)
You have seen Trescon’s minute.
Equip an expedition to the satellite of Earth immediately. It is to keep a close watch on the planet and to report at once if rocket experiments are in progress.
The greatest care must be taken to keep our presence on the Moon a secret. You are personally responsible for this. Report to me at yearly intervals, or more often if necessary.
K.K. IV.
From: President.
To: C.B.E.P.S.
Where is the report of Earth?!!
K.K. IV.
From: C.B.E.P.S.
To: President.
The delay is regretted. It was caused by the breakdown of the ship carrying the report.
There have been no signs of rocket experimenting during the past year, and no reference to it in broadcasts from the planet.
Ranthe.
From: C.B.E.P.S.
To: President.
You will have seen my yearly reports to your respected father on this subject. There have been no developments of interest for the past fifteen years, but the following message has just been received from our base on the Moon:
Rocket projectile, apparently atomically propelled, left Earth’s atmosphere today from Northern land-mass, traveling into space for one-quarter diameter of planet before returning under control.
Ranthe.
From: President.
To: Chief of State.
Your comments, please.
K.K. V.
From: Chief of State.
To: President.
This means the end of our traditional policy.
The only hope of security lies in preventing the Terrestrials from making further advances in this direction. From what we know of them, this will require some overwhelming threat.
Since its high gravity makes it impossible for us to land on the planet, our sphere of action is restricted. The problem was discussed nearly a century ago by Anvar, and I agree with his conclusions. We must act immediately along those lines.
F.K.S.
From: President.
To: Secretary of State.
Inform the Council that an emergency meeting is convened for noon tomorrow.
K.K. V.
From: President
To: C.B.E.P.S.
Twenty battleships should be sufficient to put Anvar’s plan into operation. Fortunately there is no need to arm them—yet. Report progress of construction to me weekly.
K.K. V.
From: C.B.E.P.S.
To: President.
Nineteen ships are now completed. The twentieth is still delayed owing to hull failure and will not be ready for at least a month.
Ranthe.
From: President.
To: C.B.E.P.S.
Nineteen will be sufficient. I will check the operational plan with you tomorrow. Is the draft of our broadcast ready yet?
K.K. V.
From: C.B.E.P.S.
To: President.
Draft herewith:
People of Earth!
We, the inhabitants of the planet you call Mars, have for many years observed your experiments toward achieving interplanetary travel. These experiments must cease. Our study of your race has convinced us that you are not fitted to leave your planet in the present state of your civilization. The ships you now see floating above your cities are capable of destroying them utterly, and will do so unless you discontinue your attempts to cross space.
We have set up an observatory on your Moon and can immediately detect any violation of these orders. If you obey them, we will not interfere with you again. Otherwise, one of your cities will be destroyed every time we observe a rocket leaving the Earth’s atmosphere.
By order of the President and Council of Mars.
Ranthe.
From: President.
To: C.B.E.P.S.
I approve. The translation can go ahead.
I will not be sailing with the fleet, after all. Report to me in detail immediately on your return.
K.K. V.
From: C.B.E.P.S.
To: President.
I have the honor to report the successful completion of our mission. The voyage to Earth was uneventful: radio messages from the planet indicated that we were detected at a considerable distance and great excitement had been aroused before our arrival. The fleet was dispersed according to plan and I broadcast the ultimatum. We left immediately and no hostile weapons were brought to bear against us.
I will report in detail within two days.
Ranthe.
From: Secretary, Council of Scientists.
To: President.
The psychologists have completed their report, which is attached herewith.
As might be expected, our demands at first infuriated this stubborn and high-spirited race. The shock to their pride must have been considerable, for they believed themselves to be the only intelligent beings in the Universe.
However, within a few weeks there was a rather unexpected change in the tone of their statements. They had begun to realize that we were intercepting all their radio transmissions, and some messages have been broadcast directly to us. They state that they have agreed to ban all rocket experiments, in accordance with our wishes. This is as unexpected as it is welcome. Even if they are trying to deceive us, we are perfectly safe now that we have established the second station just outside the atmosphere. They cannot possibly develop spaceships without our seeing them or detecting their tube radiation.
The watch on Earth will be continued rigorously, as instructed.
Trescon.
From: C.B.E.P.S.
To: President.
Yes, it is quite true that there have been no further rocket experiments in the last ten years. We certainly did not expect Earth to capitulate so easily!
I agree that the existence of this race now constitutes a permanent threat to our civilization and we are making experiments along the lines you suggest. The problem is a difficult one, owing to the great size of the planet. Explosives would be out of the question, and a radioactive poison of some kind appears to offer the greatest hope of success.
Fortunately, we now have an indefinite time in which to complete this research, and I will report regularly.
Ranthe.
From: Lieutenant Commander Henry Forbes, Intelligence Branch, Special Space Corps.
To: Professor S. Maxton, Philological Department, University of Oxford.
Route: Transender II (vio Schenectady).
The above papers, with others, were found in the ruins of what is believed to be the capital Martian city. (Mars Grid KL302895.) The frequent use of the ideograph for “Earth” suggests that they may be of special interest and it is hoped that they can be translated. Other papers will be following shortly.
H. Forbes, Lt. Cmdr.
Dear Max:
Sorry I’ve had no time to contact you before. I’ll be seeing you as soon as I get back to Earth.
Gosh! Mars is in a mess! Our co-ordinates were dead accurate and the bombs materialized right over their cities, just as the Mount Wilson boys predicted.
We’re sending a lot of stuff back through the two small machines, but until the big transmitter is materialized we’re rather restricted and, of course, none of us can return. So hurry up with it!
I’m glad we can get to work on rockets again. I may be old-fashioned, but being squirted through space at the speed of light doesn’t appeal to me!
Yours in haste,
Henry.
Inheritance
As David said, when one falls on Africa from a height of two hundred and fifty kilometers, a broken ankle may be an anticlimax but it is none the less painful. But what hurt him most, he pretended, was the way we had all rushed out into the desert to see what had happened to the A.20 and hadn’t come near him until hours later.
“Be logical, David,” Jimmy Langford had protested. “We knew that you were O.K. because the base ’copter radioed when it picked you up. But the A.20 might have been a complete write-off.”
“There’s only one A.20,” I said, trying to be helpful, “but rocket test-pilots are—well, if not two a penny, at any rate twelve for a dime.”
David glared back at us from beneath his bushy eyebrows and said something in Welsh.
“The Druid’s curse,” Jimmy remarked to me. “Any moment now you’ll turn into a leek or a perspex model of Stonehenge.”
You see, we were still pretty light-headed and it wouldn’t do to be serious for a while. Even David’s iron nerve must have taken a terrific beating, yet somehow he seemed the calmest of us all. I couldn’t understand it—then.
The A.20 had come down fifty kilometers from her launching point. We’d followed her by radar for the whole trajectory, so we knew her position to within a few meters—though we didn’t know at the time that David had landed ten kilometers farther east.
The first warning of disaster had come seventy seconds after takeoff. The A.20 had reached fifty kilometers and was following the correct trajectory to within a few per cent. As far as the eye could tell, the luminous track on the radar screen had scarcely deviated from the pre-computed path. David was doing two kilometers a second: not much, but the fastest any man had ever traveled up to then. And Goliath was just about to be jettisoned.
The A.20 was a two-step rocket. It had to be, for it was using chemical fuels. The upper component, with its tiny cabin, its folded aerofoils and flaps, weighed just under twenty tons when fully fueled. It was to be lifted by a lower two-hundred-ton booster which would take it up to fifty kilometers, after which it could carry on quite happily under its own power. The big fellow would then drop back to Earth by parachute: it wouldn’t weigh much when its fuel was burnt. Meanwhile the upper step would have built up enough speed to reach the six-hundred-kilometer level before falling back and going into a glide that would take David halfway round the world if he wished.
I don’t remember who called the two rockets David and Goliath but the names caught on at once. Having two Davids around caused a lot of confusion, not all of it accidental.
Well, that was the theory, but as we watched the tiny green spot on the screen fall away from its calculated course, we knew that something had gone wrong. And we guessed what it was.
At fifty kilometers the spot should have divided in two. The brighter echo should have continued to rise as a free projectile, and then fallen back to Earth. But the other should have gone on, still accelerating, drawing swiftly away from the discarded booster.
There had been no separation. The empty Goliath had refused to come free and was dragging David back to Earth—helplessly, for David’s motors could not be used. Their exhausts were blocked by the machine beneath.
We saw all this in about ten seconds. We waited just long enough to calculate the new trajectory, and then we climbed into the ’copters and set off for the target area.
All we expected to find, of course, was a heap of magnesium looking as if a bulldozer had gone over it. We knew that Goliath couldn’t eject its parachute while David was sitting on top of it, any more than David could use its motors while Goliath was clinging beneath. I remember wondering who was going to break the news to Mavis, and then realizing that she’d be listening to the radio and would know all about it as soon as anyone.
We could scarcely believe our eyes when we found the two rockets still coupled together, lying undamaged beneath the big parachute. There was no sign of David, but a few minutes later Base called to say that he’d been found. The plotters at Number Two Station had picked up the tiny echo from his parachute and sent a ’copter to collect him. He was in the hospital twenty minutes later, but we stayed out in the desert for several hours checking over the machines and making arrangements to retrieve them.
The shock and the subsequent relief had left us all feeling rather irresponsible and perhaps childish. Only David seemed unaffected: the fact that he’d just had one of the most miraculous escapes in human history hadn’t made him turn a hair. He sat there in the bed pretending to be annoyed at our jibes until we’d calmed down.
“Well,” said Jimmy at last, “what went wrong?”
“That’s for you to discover,” David replied. “Goliath went like a dream until fuel-cutoff point. I waited then for the five-second pause before the explosive bolts detonated and the springs threw it clear, but nothing happened. So I punched the emergency release. The lights dimmed, but the kick I’d expected never came. I tried a couple more times but somehow I knew it was useless. I guessed that something had shorted in the detonator circuit and was earthing the power supply.
“Well, I did some rather rapid calculations from the flight charts and abacs in the cabin. At my present speed I’d continue to rise for another two hundred kilometers and would reach the peak of my trajectory in about three minutes. Then I’d start the two-hundred-and-fifty-kilometer fall and should make a nice hole in the desert four minutes later. All told, I seemed to have a good seven minutes of life left—ignoring air-resistance, to use your favorite phrase. That might add a couple of minutes to my expectation of life.
“I knew that I couldn’t get the big parachute out, and David’s wings would be useless with the forty-ton mass of Goliath on its tail. I’d used up two of my seven minutes before I decided what to do.
“It’s a good job I made you widen that airlock. Even so, it was a squeeze to get through it in my space-suit. I tied the end of the safety rope to a locking lever and crawled along the hull until I reached the junction of the two steps.