"How about removing our space suits? I always feel uncomfortable in them," Al continued.
"Just a moment while I test this atmosphere to see if it's livable."
Joe extracted from a pocket of his suit a clever little device. The turn of a valve, the pressure of a button, and an electric coil heated a sample of the atmosphere. A glance through the tiny spectroscope attachment, and its constitution was revealed.
"Oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide—the same gases that make up our air. And just about in the same proportions. Alright, Al, we can breathe this atmosphere. Off go the suits!"
Swiftly the two tore off their helmets, opened the zippers of the overalls. Quickly the protective garments were folded into compact bundles, stowed in the shoulder knapsacks prepared for their reception. The two drew in long breaths of air. It seemed good to breathe freely again, reckless of consequences, free from the everlasting necessity of watching dials, and switches, and levers.
"That's good! Glad to get rid of that synthetic mixture we've been living on ever since we left Mother Earth. Wonder if there's any life here."
"Let's scout around a bit, though from the looks of things, it doesn't seem likely. Yet how about that hinged slab, and the cylinder we saw shoot out of it?"
Meanwhile they explored the chaotic terrain. Suddenly, Joe halted. "What's that, behind that rock?"
Around a boulder, not far ahead, appeared a jelly-like creeper. As the startled Earthmen watched, the creeper swelled, expanded, and lo, there before them was a nightmare creature. Up it towered, a quivering green jelly, formless, yet multiform,—its malevolent aspect sent a thrill of horror through the adventurers.
"There's your specimen of life, Al. Hope you like it!"
Cautiously they approached the creature, disruptor tubes handy. Motionless, it appeared to be, unaware of their presence. They were about ten feet away, when suddenly, a tentacle spurted out from the formless mass, straight for Joe. So lightning swift was the attack that he barely had time to spring beyond its reach.
A cry from Al. Another and yet another of the horrible jelly masses had appeared from behind the strewn rocks. They were rolling rapidly nearer.
"I don't like this so much—let's get back to the ship while we can," Joe exclaimed.
"I'm afraid it's too late—we'll have to fight our way," Al replied grimly. "Look over there."
The entire plain was alive with the heaving forms of the protoplasmic denizens of this queer world. Especially were they numerous around the tunnel exit. The Earthmen were ringed about now with the quivering menaces—their ever-forming tentacles flicking out toward them with inconceivable rapidity.
Disruptor tubes in hand, the beleaguered explorers advanced toward the passage, their only chance being to blast a path to safety. The jellied bodies drew together solidly blocking the way. Simultaneously Joe and Al pressed the triggers of their weapons. The long pale beams sprang out, impinged upon the heaving forms.
A cry of despair burst involuntarily from both men. The disruptor rays had absolutely no effect upon these creatures. Matter was differently constituted here—earth forces were unable to break up these atoms.
All was lost! The end of the great adventure was near. In great waves the green terrors advanced. Desperately the men searched about for some opening, some gap through which to seek escape. There was none. Enringed, they stood at bay, defenseless, now that the disruptor tubes, potent weapons of destruction on earth, were useless.
As disaster bore down upon them, Al's thoughts flashed back to the commencement of their flight; the vast crowds gathered to see them off—aspirants for the great million dollar prize to the space navigators who first explored the pale planet, Pluto, enigma of the solar system.
Almost was the prize within their grasp. Another few hundred million miles and they would have reached Pluto. But now they were thrown into this. Now they were doomed, never to return, or bear witness to the wonders they had seen.
A clammy yielding tentacle encircled his body, dragging him down. Joe, too, was struggling in the grip of an amorphous monster. Desperately they fought, but to no avail. Even as they broke through one grip, another viscid tentacle would flow over them. Already they were being engulfed into the bodies of these creatures. What a horrible end—to be ingested alive—to be dissolved in the digestive fluids of these horribly strange green beings.
Even as the two had given up all hope, were weltering at the bottom of a mass of viscid, clammy matter, there was a sudden change. A shudder ran through the monstrous jelly engulfing them, the horrible stuff flowed away. They were left lying there, stunned, suffocated, senses reeling into oblivion, but still alive!
STRANGE BEINGS
SLOWLY life flowed back into the adventurers. What had brought about this sudden change? What had saved them from certain extinction? They raised their heads, then dropped them with simultaneous groans. What nightmare was this they were living through? Impossible, the things they had seen! Again they looked about them. True enough, two shapes were standing there. But what shapes!
Two orange, dome-shaped creatures, somewhat like diving bells. The front of each bell was flattened, and in the center was a huge oval opening, covered by a translucent mica-like substance. Directly over and on each side of the opening protruded two antennae, at the end of which were round faceted knobs.
Beneath the orifice were two long waving tentacles, ending in two opposing spatulates. The whole dome or bell rested on innumerable little jointed legs, the creatures were able to travel with a fair degree of rapidity. Altogether they were not over three feet in height.
Joe and Al sprang to their feet. In the distance they could see a swelling mass of the green jelly-creatures that had so nearly done for them. Driving them on with green flashes from tubular weapons held in their tentacles, moved a horde of queer beings similar to the two immediately in front of them.
"Holy mackerel!" Joe exploded, "these things have saved our lives, alright, but what the devil are they? Bird, beast, or devil? Do you see the same thing as I, Al, or have I gone daffy?"
But Al was not listening. He had been watching the forms intently. "Look," he cried, gripping Joe's arm. "Look at that, will you!"
On the translucent mica-like coverings over the orifices, appeared reddish characters. There were four of them, delicate, intricate tracings, lit up by some interior fire. They resembled somewhat the old cuneiform writing of the Babylonians, or the Egyptian hieroglyphics. Even as the Earthmen watched with bated breath, the glyphs vanished, and others, different in form, took their place.
Al was greatly excited. "I believe they're trying to communicate with us. That membrane is a screen on which they can flash symbols that represent their language, just as we do in printing."
"Then how in blazes are we going to talk to them. Wonder if they can hear." Joe cupped his hands and shouted a great "Hello!"
There was not the slightest movement to show that they had heard, but at the gesture, strange fiery characters danced and changed with great rapidity on the screens.
Joe was disgusted. "What are we to do now? Draw pictures for them?"
"That isn't such a bad idea," declared Al. "But first we'll try pantomime."
Accordingly he pointed to the open doorway up through which they had come, and then with a sweep of his arm denoted their travels through far space.
For the first time, the creatures showed excitement. They shuffled their innumerable feet and waved their long tentacle arms. One of them propelled itself like a huge centipede to the jade slab and quickly shut it. On the screen of the other there flashed a scene—the deep blue of space in which whirled innumerable worlds.
Now it was Al who danced excitedly. "There you are, Joe," he cried, "they're making pictures for us, moving pictures; just what you spoke of so contemptuously. See, they've understood me." He nodded his head vigorously in confirmation.
Evidently this gesture was also comprehended, for the picture changed to one
in which the Earthmen beheld themselves escorted along an alabaster road.
"They want us to go with them, Al; think it safe?"
"Safe?" echoed Al scornfully, "why, they couldn't hold me back. Miss up examining this civilization! I should say not!"
"All right, all right," Joe retorted good-naturedly. "Keep your shirt on; I'm going; just thought I'd ask."
Al in pantomime declared his willingness to go with them. Immediately one trotted ahead, while the other moved along with the two adventurers.
FOR a long time they moved across the black and dismal plain, swept clear now of the grim green menaces that so nearly had been their doom. Then they came to a precipitous ascent, up which a roughly hewed road spiralled. Breathless, the Earthmen reached the top. Then they stopped, thunderstruck.
They were gazing down upon a rolling landscape that gently undulated and curved upwards until lost in the haze. A warm, golden orange glow enveloped the scene in a glamorous bath. Overhead shone the source of the illumination—a mild, kindly orange sun, whose rays were not too dazzling.
Below them stretched a view that made them catch their breaths.
A long, curving snow-white road led down into a deep valley. Filling the hollow was a vast city, a golden gleaming city of rounded shapes. Immense structures; domes, diving bells, magnified duplicates of their inhabitants.
Joe was the first to break the silence. "This is something like—. These people must have considerable brains and skill to build that wonderful city."
Al said nothing, but broke into a rapid walk, so fast this his guides could barely keep up with him. As for Joe, "Good Lord man, hold on a bit. I'm not in training for cross-country, you know."
Unwillingly Al slowed his pace. The true explorer's fervor blazed in him. As they descended into the valley, they began to meet more and more of the strange denizens. Without exception, each one that they met stopped short in his tracks, bright red symbols chasing each other intricately over his translucent screen, to be met with answering hieroglyphics from their guides.
"Sort of giving them the low down on us," Joe explained it. Invariably the curious one fell in behind until by the time they entered the city, they were accompanied by a veritable guard of honor.
On a broad white highway between the golden domes, mosaics of intricate designs in which gold predominated, went the procession. A weird soundless procession, except for the slight rustle of innumerable little feet.
It struck Joe for the first time. "Say, Al, have you noticed that there is no noise in this world. None of the usual sounds we're accustomed to. Positively uncanny, I think."
"It struck me too. These people cannot speak, and evidently cannot hear either. Because of the silence in nature. Were there natural sounds or noises, evolution would have equipped them also with the necessary apparatus."
Just then their guides swung onto a long ramp that led into a dome more magnificent than the rest. Guards at the entrance, armed with gleaming tridents, permitted them to enter, and promptly barred the way to the unofficial escort.
The vast interior was crowded with Prostaks (the name of these-bell-shaped people). On a raised platform at the farther end stood one taller than the rest. In one tentacle he carried a great trident whose prongs darted golden flames. Near him stood contemptuously,—if such earth terms could be applied to so strange a being—an elongated cylinder, entirely enclosed in a deep blue shimmering aura. Lifeless though it seemed, purely geometric its form—yet the explorers sensed immediately the presence of a living force—a malignant, evil influence that caused their flesh to prickle with nameless shudders.
"Good God, that damned cylinder is the center of something horrible, Joe," Al exclaimed involuntarily. "I feel it in my bones. These other people—I know they are kindly, gentle folk. I can sense it, even though they are so different from us. But that over there, it gives me the creeps."
Joe nodded soberly. "I had the same feeling as soon as I saw it. I'm afraid we're going to have trouble with that beastly figure before we're through. And these inhabitants, I think they already have felt the force of its devilry."
III. — A SILENT DRAMA
EVEN as he spoke, the blue aura enfolding the cylinder began to flicker. Streamers shot out from it; long ones, then short, then long; evidently a sort of Morse code.
The imposing Prostak on the platform, whom the Earthmen already recognized as the ruler or King over these people, faced the other being with what seemed the greatest attention.
When the flickering streamers ceased, the Ruler bowed submissively. Instantly all the Prostaks in the hall tossed their tentacles about wildly, shuffled their little feet, while on the screens dashed a perfect frenzy of symbols. The uncanny silence was unbroken, but Joe and Al looked at each other. Both had felt it. Immense waves of lamentation exuded into the vitalized atmosphere—these people were suffering intensely. Within the Earthmen's breasts, hearts hammered suffocatingly under the surge of an immense pity.
"Al!" Joe whispered hoarsely, his eyes suspiciously wet.
"What is it?" responded Al in a queer choked voice.
"There's something damnable going on here!"
Al nodded fiercely. "I know it—I feel it."
Joe continued hurriedly. "That alien cylinder has just made some filthy demand on that big fellow—the Ruler here—and he was forced to give in. And all these poor people are crying inwardly—they haven't even the consolation of honest-to-goodness tears and wailing that we have. Some frightful doom is hanging over them."
"Wish we could do something to help."
"Hold your horses, Al. Mustn't go off half-cocked. Wait until we learn a bit more about things here before we butt in."
Their attention was once more attracted to the ivory platform. The Ruler was motioning with his huge trident to a group of guards armed with smaller tridents.
Instantly the guards set in motion. Down through the crowded hall they moved, the Prostaks shrinking and shuffling away from them with every evidence of terrible fright. Suddenly the guards swooped, and six frantically struggling figures were borne bodily to the platform. The Ruler emanated inutterable sadness, and a host of pallid red glyphs flashed in rapid succession on the thought screen. Afterwards, the Earthmen found they could detect the mental mood of the Prostaks from the depth of color of these Symbols. When the Prostak was cheerful and gay, the characters danced a brilliant red; when sad or uneasy, the red was dulled and pallid.
The guards carried their writhing victims down the length of the hall and out into the open. The vast concourse of people bowed down almost to the ground, their long spatulated tentacles waving wildly, heart-breakingly.
The cylinder stood erect, as though contemplating the despairing people. Was that a mocking leer that subtly emanated from it? Joe could have sworn it was. Instinctively his hand reached for the revolver in his pocket. He had a wild desire to shoot down that alien tyrant.
Al saw his movement, and gripped his arm just in time. "For God's sake, Joe, stop it. Are you mad? You don't know what it's all about. And besides, you're liable to expose us to some terrible danger by your foolhardiness. Wait until we learn more about what's happening."
Grumbling, Joe allowed himself to be persuaded. He returned the weapon to its place. "I know damn well what it's all about. That grinning, leering cylinder—I'd like to shoot it full of holes and see what it's made of. But I suppose you're right—we'd better wait and get acquainted first." Notwithstanding his acquiescence, he sighed regretfully.
The blue cylinder began to flick out a message. Once more the King bowed in token of submission. Then the blue flames increased in volume, until the baleful cylinder was only faintly visible. Suddenly it shot up into the air, circled about the hall three times, (a derisive gesture, Joe thought) then darted straight for the roof of the dome. Without hesitation it plunged through the solid stone as though it were non-existent and disappeared. A nameless oppression, a foreboding of ultimate doom, lift
ed from the travelers' hearts with its passing.
Wrapped as they were in the mighty drama just terminated, no one had noticed the intrusion of these two visitors from another universe. But now the Prostaks discovered their presence, and once more excitement resumed its sway. The hall was filled with inquisitive waving tentacles, and their pictured remarks glowed with a livelier red.
The Ruler raised his body at the turmoil, and saw the cause of it. You could almost see his start of surprise. He held his golden trident aloft. The two guides, heretofore discreetly in the background, now pushed forward. The Earthmen followed.
A rapid exchange passed between the guides and their King. Then he turned to his visitors, and, raising his trident aloft, waved it three times. Al, who was already almost en rapport with this strange race, said to Joe. "He's evidently welcoming us."
Then picture began to flash on the oval screen. Intently they watched. They saw themselves being led through long corridors to a great hall, filled with bizarre machines, busily attended by Prostaks. "Looks like a scientific laboratory to me, Joe; he wants us to communicate with their scientists." Then they watched themselves going to other chambers, where food was served, and ultimately to a place where they stood motionless in fixed attitudes, when the pictures went blank.
"That must be their sleeping quarters. They must sleep standing up. In fact, I can't see how they could lie down if they wanted to," interjected Joe, proud of his acumen.
Al attempted in pantomime to show he understood. The King waved his trident once more, and two guards appeared. Ranging on either side of the explorers, they led them down a long corridor into a chamber full of queer apparatus, exactly as had been pictured to them. The scientist Prostaks came forward to greet them.
Space Lawyers: A Collaborative Collection Page 10