The Worlds of George O

by George O. Smith

  I'd be lost trying to find my way home from out there if I couldn't retrace my steps. I wouldn't recognize Sol from Sirius if I were on Arcturus, and I'd not know how to go about it."

  "Spectral lines, and stellar data--" said Edith.

  "I have a hunch that whoever--in fact I'm certain--gave me this information was uncertain as to whether I was in the next stellar system or halfway across the universe."

  "That would depend upon the range of whatever gadget they used to implant the information--and whether it was beamed. Also, Tom, there's another interesting item. You say there was a mental conversation in your case. That means that the velocity of propagation of that medium is instantaneous! Either that, or he was right here on Terra."

  "Got me. But if he were right here, why didn't he meet me in person, or make a future date?"

  "I pass," said Edith. "I have a fair working knowledge of astrogation. I wonder if it is complete enough for my fellow to have positioned us. On the other hand, mine came strictly as information, without chitchat. Like someone handing me a telegram full of data."

  Barden considered the problem a moment as the girl went on.

  "But my knowledge of astrogation is merely the angular constants of the marker stars and how to recognize them from their constellation positions. He might be able to set up a model of this hunk of sky and reach the right answer--only if he sought the information, however. I did not give it, and he seemed uninterested--as I say, it was like getting a phonograph record or a radiogram."

  They entered Barden's office and as they did, Tim Evans came running in. Barden nodded and said: "Miss Ward, this is Tim Evans, my head mathematical physicist. Tim, this is Dr. Ward."

  They acknowledged the introduction, but Tim was excited. "Look, Tom, did it work?"

  "We had trouble on Ship One, but we fudged Two up and made it sing like an angel." Barden explained sketchily.

  "Oh," said Evans, his face falling slightly.

  "Why?"

  "Because I've been thinking along another line and I've come up with another kind of superdrive. If yours didn't work, this one is certain."

  "Yes? Go on."

  "No need to," said Evans. "Yours is far more efficient and less bulky.

  Mine would get you there, but it would take up a lot of extra space. Besides, it doesn't offer the chance to see where you're going directly, but only through a new type of celestial globe. Furthermore, it wouldn't move as fast.

  So forget it."

  "New type of celestial globe?" asked Barden. "We could use it, maybe. We can see out all right, but that's due to the intermittence. The present celestial globe system is an adaptation of the pulse-ranging transmission-time presentation, you know. When you're running above light the globe is useless."

  "But look, Tom," objected Edith. "You won't need one at supers peed.

  You'll not be maneuvering, and if you hit something a few million miles ahead in the globe, you're past it before anything could work anyway."

  "Admitted," he said. "But I'd like to have one, anyway. Look, Evans, how does this thing work?"

  "On a magneto-gravitic principle. Gravity, I am beginning to understand, is not a matter of wave propagation at all. It is a factor of matter--and it is either there or it isn't."

  "I wouldn't know."

  "Well, that's the theory. So we utilize an artificial manifestation of gravity, beamed. It also seems that gravitational effects are mutual. In other words, the attraction between Terra and Sol is the combination of mutual attractions. So our beam, increasing the attraction between the object and the beam, also causes the increase of the attraction between the beam and the object. For beam read transmitter; I always think of the radiating element as being the beam instead of what I should. Anyway, when the attraction is increased, it affects a detector in the radiating elements. That gives you your indication."

  "How about ranging?"

  "Still a matter of the inverse-square of the distance. We know accurately the attraction-factor of our beam. Whatever reflects will have distance-diminishment which we can measure and use."

  "But it is also proportional to the mass, isn't it?" asked Barden.

  "It'll take a nice bunch of circuits," grinned Evans, "but we can check the mass with another beam's attraction to it and differentiate. An integrating system will solve for range on the basis of mass and distance. The celestial search and presentation systems will be the same."

  "O.K.--how about communications?"

  "Sure," said Evans.

  "You rig 'em up," said Barden. "And Tim, tell Eddie to refurbish the ship. We're going out again. And I want three or four of the original space drives put aboard as working spares."

  "Working spares?" asked Evans.

  "Yeah, mount 'em on girder frameworks complete with atomic units.

  I'm going to prove the next point."

  "What next point?" asked Dr. Edith Ward.

  "I want to find out if your informant was telling the truth," said Tom Barden. "Interested?"

  * * * *

  Edith shuddered a little. "That's a big responsibility," she said. "You intend to destroy a whole stellar system?"

  "I don't know. I'm going to see whether that stuff would actually start an overall sustaining fission reaction in a planet after the minor fission got underway. If it does, then it is no worse for me to blow up a dead system than it would be for my little informant getting us to blow up ours."

  "You sound rather positive about it."

  "One or the other," said Barden. "I'm bothered. No matter how you look at it, we... or I, was like a small child given matches to play with in a nitrocellulose storehouse. Unless you'd come up with yours, I'd have most certainly blown us sky high."

  "Right. I think we owe my friends a debt of gratitude."

  "I'll agree to that. But for this test, we'll ramble until we find a relatively unimportant star with only one or two planets, devoid of life. Then we'll try it."

  "But even with dead system, you're taking a lot upon yourself."

  "How?"

  "There will, from that time on, be a monument to the memory of Thomas Barden. You'll be the object of argument and of both admiration and hatred. Flag-wavers will either point with pride or view with alarm, depending upon their politics. Why not wait until the thing is discussed?"

  "Forever? No, Edith. None of us can afford it. We must know. If this works, Sol has a rather dangerous weapon against any possible conquesting races in the galaxy. Regardless of what has gone before, Sol is in a position to go out and make her mark upon the galaxy. It is best to go prepared, and if we fear nothing, we neither need fear subjugation."

  "But destroying a stellar system--"

  "Who'll miss it?" he asked.

  She looked blank. "I don't know," she said. "It just seems so big. It doesn't seem right that one man should be able to go out and destroy a stellar system. One that has been stable for millions upon millions of years.

  Superstition, perhaps," she said thoughtfully. "I'm not a religious woman, Tom. I am not sacrilegious, either. Somehow, somewhere, there must be a God--"

  "Who made the universe. With a density of ten to the minus twenty-eighth power and an average temperature of matter about twenty million degrees? For the benefit of Terrans. Well if so, Edith, He is willing to see one of His experiments used to further mankind in his struggle. Ad astra per aspera, my dear!"

  Edith agreed solemnly, but was obviously unconvinced.

  "Look," he hastened to add, "if all this was put here for the benefit of Terrans, we're expected to use it. If we are incidental in some grand plan encompassing a billion suns in a thousand galaxies, loss of one sun won't matter."

  "I suppose that's logic," she said. "I'd prefer not to talk about it too much. I know it should be done, but it still seems all wrong, somehow."

  "We've got to know. Remember, there's a lot of truth in the whole thing," he said thoughtfully. "And also a lot of untruth. They did tell me the way to interstellar travel--
in a slightly staunchwise fashion. They told you about the disintegration-process. Now, darn it, Edith, did they scare us away from planetary tries because they knew it would damage the system, or for another reason? How do we know the thing would ruin a planet and ultimately the system? Answer, we do not."

  She nodded glumly. "I suppose that it is a step toward the final solution."

  "Right, and as soon as we can get a nice system, we'll try it!"

  * * * *

  "This is Procyon," said Tom Barden. "Or so they tell me. I wouldn't know."

  The star was a small disk almost dead ahead; its light shone down through the fore dome of the ship augmenting the lights in the observation room.

  "Sentiment again," she said. "I'd prefer a system more distant."

  "If this has the right kind of planets, Procyon it is," said Barden flatly.

  "If it has planets unsuited for life, what possible good can it do Terra? Plus the fact that the instability that follows the nova for a few years will act as a nice signpost toward Terra from all parts of the galaxy. Remember, men will really be spreading out with the new drive."

  "Again you're right. But have you no sentiment?"

  He looked at her. "Not when it interferes with practicality--"

  They were coasting along at half the speed of light, under the superdrive. On all sides were running cameras. One coast across the system with the moving picture cameras covering the sky would bring any planets into ken; the parallax of planetary bodies would show against the fairly constant sky. There was also visual observation for interest's sake.

  At the far side, the ship came to a stop with respect to Procyon, and while the films were developing, Jerry Brandt swapped ends and ran the ship nearer the center of the system. Procyon, from one side port, looked about as large as Sol from Terra, and it seemed about as bright and warm.

  It was here that they met the alien ship. It came from nowhere, and passed them slantwise at a terrific velocity. As it passed, a stabbing beam darted once, and the beam-end burst into a coruscation of sheer energy.

  "That," blubbered Barden, "was close!"

  Jerry Brandt swore thoroughly, and whipped the ship around slightly, cramming on the superdrive but keeping the drivers below the speed of light. He set his switches carefully, and seconds later the alien ship appeared for one brief instant and then was gone. While it was there, eye-visible in the sky, one of the ship's own cutting planes sheared out and sliced the driving tubes from the bottom of the ship.

  Then it was gone, and Brandt fought the switches, stopping the ship.

  "What--was that?"

  'We've got a nice way of retaliating," said Barden harshly. "We use the intermittent generator of the superdrive but we stay below the velocity of light. Jerry has calibrated the intermittence and the rep-rate to a nice precision. We appear in true space, slash out, and disappear again to reappear God knows how many miles farther on. Now we'll go back and see whether that bird wants more." He spoke to Jerry. "Take care!"

  "Easy she goes," replied Brandt. "Did you see that joker? He tried to ruin us!"

  * * * *

  They came up as the inert alien came into view. It stabbed again with that beam, but missed. Jerry Brandt swore again and cut the ship from end to end with his cutting plane. This time there was no response save a swirl of smoke from the cleft sides of the ship.

  "We've used these to cut asteroids into stove lengths," he told Barden sharply. "I wonder how many of them have been used likewise on some hapless enemy."

  "I don't have any way of knowing," said Barden. "And I don't care whether it is a proper weapon to use or not. It worked."

  "What are you going to do?" asked Dr. Ward.

  He smiled at her. "He didn't like us--apparently for no other reason than we were alien. If he'd come in peaceable, we'd have made talky-talk.

  As it is, he fired first, but not too well. Now we'll just grab his ship and see what he's got, who he is, where he's from--and possibly why."

  It was a small ship outside, in space. But getting it into the vast cargo hold of Barden's ship required some more trimming. The alien ship finally lay in eight sections, stacked. The cargo hold was now jammed with alien ship, and much of the spare equipment and supplies were jettisoned.

  Then they went in warily to examine the alien. They found the alien crew--four of them. They were spacesuited, but unconscious.

  "Hope they breathe air at twenty percent oxygen," growled Barden.

  They opened the suits, and laid the unconscious aliens on tables in one of the operations rooms.

  They were squat and wide, almost humanoid save for large eyeballs under the closed double lids. Their noses were almost nonexistent, and each hand splayed wide with seven stubby fingers. These hands were symmetrical, but despite a thumb on either side, the Terrans doubted that they were more dextrous than Terrans, because of their shorter fingers.

  Their shoulders were very wide, but also quite thin, indicating a long, unfavorable leverage with less muscle.

  "Ugly-looking--" started Jerry Brandt, who shut himself off as he remembered Edith Ward.

  She looked up at him and flushed. "They are," she said with a slight smile. Brandt blushed with embarrassment and spluttered incoherently for a moment. The pilot might have spluttered for some time had not the foremost alien stirred, causing a diversion.

  They crowded him as he awoke and looked about him. His expression was undecipherable, though there was quite a change in facial composure as he saw the kind of white-faced animals that surrounded him.

  He looked, and then he clutched rapidly at a device on his belt. Barden swung a fist and caught the creature on the forearm, causing him to drop the half-drawn weapon. Brandt stooped over and picked it up, and the rest of the crew proceeded to disarm the other three.

  Edith found a length of wire and made a loop of it. She held it in front of the alien.

  He relaxed, splaying his hands and holding them wide from his body.

  Her action had been understood, and the creature did not want his hands tied.

  "Jerry," said Barden. "Set the controls for superspeed towards anywhere in the universe, and get us away from here."

  "Solward?"

  "No. He should get as little information as possible."

  Jerry left, and the ship soon turned slightly and started off. Barden waved the creature to the port and pointed out Procyon, which was diminishing swiftly. The alien grew excited, and made wondering motions.

  "That... thing... knows what the score is, partly," observed Edith.

  "That... thing... had better behave," said Barden flatly. "And while we're wondering about him, I hate to think of him being called a Procyonian."

  "Call 'em Pokeys," said Tim Evans.

  "O.K. Now let's show him his ship."

  The alien's excitement changed to dismay as he viewed the wreckage. He looked at it, and then as if wiping it off as finished, he turned away.

  There was but one cargo lock in Barden's ship. And, though the alien craft had been trimmed, and considerable of it trimmed away and left, it was still packed in with most of the remaining spares. These included the four superdrive motors, mounted on their girders with the atomic units. The alien saw these, and went over to inspect them, and Barden let him go.

  What possibly could have been familiar they did not know. The chances of an alien gasoline engine being instantly recognizable as such by a Terran is problematical. A simple electric motor might be--especially if connected to a storage battery, or even by a wire cable to a wall outlet.

  Doubtless, the electron tube would be recognized by a spider-man from the other end of the galaxy, for the handling of electrons must be similar no matter where they are used. There will be cathodes and grids and anodes and connecting prongs, wires, or terminals.

  The unprotected superdrive motor was not encased. It had been a job intended for test-stand operation and, therefore, it could be inspected fairly well. Something about it was familiar, and one spo
t of familiarity was sufficient for the alien to reconstruct the rest.

  He nearly exploded with frantic gestures. He ran to Barden--his run was a swift waddle, due to the wide leg-base--and clutched Tom's arm. He pointed to the cut-apart spaceship and indicated that he wanted to go up into that pile to find something. Barden shrugged and nodded, and then followed the alien.

  * * * *

  It was difficult for Barden, for the alien was sure-footed in his climb up the jagged edges to one section near the middle of the pile. He disappeared inside and found a piece of equipment, which he brought out. He set this upon the floor and returned with other equipment, which he added to the original piece. Then taking the whole bunch in his arms, he led them up to the operations room.

  Here he put it on a table. Then he opened the main piece and drew out a two-pronged plug which he waved in Barden's face, made plugging gestures into the blank wall, and then made searching motions.

  Barden pointed to the nearest convenience outlet, and the creature waddled to it with the rest of his equipment.

  He probed into the openings with test-leads and read the results on meters of his own. He showed Barden exactly what the meters should read.

  Barden nodded and they set to work matching their line-current to the alien's specifications. It turned out to be one hundred ninety-three volts at seventy cycles. Meanwhile, one of Barden's men replaced the alien's plug with a Terran type, and they inserted it gingerly. The alien put a temple-set over his head, and handed one to Barden.

  "This," came the thought, "is an instrument used to extract information from enemies. It will serve as a means of communication."

  "Why did you fire on us?" thought Barden.

  "You are alien. We are at war, in fact, have been at war with the devils from that star--" and here came a mixed-impression of a distorted constellation that was not familiar to Barden, who was not too familiar with astronomy, anyway, and so he passed it over. He stopped the alien momentarily, to send one of the men to tell Jerry Brandt to return to within a light-year or so of Procyon.

  "But," continued the alien, "you are not using--that?"