The Collected Stories

by Earl

  Dik looked at the cheerful Tom with the ghost of a grin on his cherubic face. “Your inclinations are very common.”

  “Well, why not?” countered Tom quickly. “I can never be a scientist or intellectual. So I must be common. Call me what you like, but I just thought of that girl I met—you remember, at the Club Orion? If I ever get to be a captain, with a captain’s bankits, she’ll hear from me, you can bet on it. Hair, Dik, like spun gold; eyes a dream; and wild! She’s as wild as—let me think—as a mustang, and . . .”

  “Now what’s a mustang?” Dik broke in.

  “Oh, we had it in ancient history of the Capitalistic Age. There’s another name for them . . . a horse! That was the animal the ancients used for transportation. They had to be broken into harness. Well, this girl is wild and untamed like that . . .”

  But Dik was laughing heartily, bringing a sheepish grin to Tom’s face.

  The signal bell clanged again and they strapped themselves in. The turbo-car hissed in rapid braking.

  “Tom, I’m a commoner too,” said Dik. “But sometimes I feel—different!”

  Then the robot voice droned softly: “Station Red-14, Take elevator 22 for Sci-tri. Change for . . .” etc.

  They got up from their seats. An automatic control opened the door of the vehicle, and they stepped out upon the platform of the station. Through the great throng of the terminal, they made their way toward the numerous elevators. Here at the hub of world control, the red-uniformed guards of the Sci-tri were everywhere in great number.

  They hadn’t taken a dozen steps when one approached them and asked politely, “Credentials, gentlemen.”

  After a close scrutiny of the papers, the guard turned on his heel with a “Follow me, please.”

  They stepped into an elevator. Down it whisked with breathless speed. The bright lights went out and Dik and Tom stood stiffly in the soft blue glow of an overhead lamp. They knew that it was for the purpose of searching them for weapons; the Sci-tri took no chances. The scientist rulers knew the weaknesses of human nature and occasionally had trouble on their hands. It was always stamped out completely, with cold efficiency.

  IN A few seconds, the bright lights again flashed on and shortly after the elevator came to a stop. The guard led the way. It was quite thrilling to the two youths, for it was the first time in their lives that they were in the Sci-tri center. The term Sci-tri had come to be synonymous with “power,” and called for awe and respect.

  With not a little trepidation, they followed the guard. He led them to a great door of metal which had neither latch nor hinge, yet it opened at their approach. Ahead stretched a long corridor whose vaulted ceiling lost itself in dim height that reared above hanging lights. On each side were numbered doors set in the glistening walls. At one door, the guard held up a metal object and flicked its tap control; the door opened silently.

  “In there,” motioned the guard. “I leave you. Good-day, gentlemen.”

  A trifle fearfully, Dik and Tom walked in, looking at each other and asking with their eyes, “What now?”

  An amplifier above them spoke: “Please enter the door upon your left.” They lost little time in doing so, for action was far better than standing in that oppressive silence. They had no sooner entered this door when, with a shout, they both ran forward—for there were the others of their class—six young men.

  Eagerly they all exchanged greetings. They had not been together for a month and each wanted to know what the other had done during their furlough. In the midst of this noisy and exciting reunion, a deep voice called for silence. They knew better than to disobey.

  “Gentlemen,” said the voice. “It is the pleasure of the Sci-tri at this appointed hour to see you personally. Please enter the forum from the door numbered 3A.”

  It was the great moment—to see the famed and mysterious Sci-tri! The eight youths fell into line behind one another and entered the forum. A series of steps leading downward at a slight angle ran between many rows of seats with desks before them. For a moment, they thought that they were entering another classroom—but upon looking ahead and upward, they saw a rotunda of burnished metal set with a massive judge’s bench that extended the entire width of the forum. Behind the bench sat the members of the Sci-tri.

  The body of youths stopped as one and saluted as they gazed on with conflicting emotions. No one had prepared them for the shock of seeing the fifteen Sci-tri scientists. Fifteen men—yet how different from men!

  So conspicuous was the largeness of their heads, that the first impression was that they were heads alone. But closer scrutiny revealed the human frames that supported them. Not a vestige of hair was upon the heads. Like pale, damp marbles, they shone in the lights of the forum. Their cranial capacity was easily twice a normal man’s. What marvel of scientific achievement was here manifested?

  CHAPTER II

  “GENTLEMEN, be seated,” spoke a stentorian voice from above.

  Still shaken with awe, the youths sat down as if in a dream. They had always thought the Sci-tri to consist of men such as they. Never in all their lives had anyone said otherwise.

  Dik noticed immediately that the Sci-tri members had no nameplates[3], and his eyes narrowed at this.

  “Gentlemen,” the voice resumed, “the Record informs us that you are students from Branch 6 of the Air School and that you are technicians of spacenautics, three full years completed and degrees conferred. Splendid work, and the Sci-tri takes this opportunity to commend you. We are proud of you!”

  With that, the rulers of earth arose. An audible gasp came from the group in the forum as they likewise arose and saluted. Those massive heads were not out of proportion to the bodies, for they were attached to stalwart frames of muscle eight feet tall! Why, here was ten thousand years of evolution!

  The stentorian voice spoke again as all seated themselves.

  “There is much to be said. Make yourselves comfortable. And now hear the words and commands of the Sci-tri. None of you could be common workers, nor yet scientists, because of your natures. You have within your bosoms that ancient spark of “adventure.” It is an atavistic complex, demanding action. There is no outlet for such complexes in our world today—except one. You have been chosen, gentlemen, to venture out into space!”

  Dik looked at Tom and his eyes said, “I told you so.”

  The voice went on: “It is the wish of the Sci-tri to enlighten you further. Fifty-nine years ago, the first ship was sent out. How successful it was in landing on another planet, we do not know. And since then many others have left. None have been heard from . . .”

  Dik leaped to his feet, his face flushed, fists white at the knuckles. He was about to speak with burning words when the stentorian voice sternly commanded him to sit down.

  “Dik 4M-277, it will please the Sci-tri for you to control your emotions. We know exactly what is in your mind. Have the patience to hear us out. Your words would have been to the effect that it seems a wanton destruction of human life to send out more ships when so many have failed.

  “Here is our answer: it is necessary. Permit us to elucidate. You men know from your studies that forty miles above earth is an invisible and thin layer of ozone, the isotope of oxygen. It is the phenomenal purpose of this layer which completely surrounds our world to shield us from a great deal of the sun’s ultra-violet rays. Were it not for the ozone, animal life as we know it could not exist—and were we humans struck with the full force of the rays that the layer absorbs, we would be burnt to a cinder.

  “It was a century ago that the scientists found, to their amazement, that the ozone layer was strangely dissipating itself! All our science cannot stop it. Careful measurements revealed that the human race has but a short century more of life left on this planet. The only alternative to death is migration to other planets!”

  The voice stopped to let this astounding statement saturate the brains of the youths in the forum.

  “We as yet know little of the other planets, and
have no idea if they will support life. For fifty-nine years now, the Sci-tri, keeping knowledge of the doom from the masses, has tried its best to send exploration ships to our sister worlds. Our purpose is humanitarian. Now would you, Dik 4M-277, or the rest of you, say that this was wanton destruction? Can you now realize that you will be martyrs to a great cause? Upon your success, as well as that of other ships, depends that welfare of billions of lives. Successful space navigation must be accomplished.

  “Up to the present time, we attribute our failure to the inadequacy of rocket motive power to traverse space. It is a stupendous task to bridge space, gentlemen—a well-nigh impossible task. We have already sent out 235 ships—none have we knowledge of once they left earth. But we have lately entertained high hopes that we will soon succeed. It is a new method of propulsion that gives us such hope, and your ship will be the first to use it.

  “We will give you now a brief description of it. Later you will be trained thoroughly how to run it. Our present rocket engines are not powerful enough to send ships across the void, apparently. They are highly successful in our airships, but that is out of comparison. The new ship is not unlike a stratosphere ship. It will leave earth’s atmosphere by rocket explosion, but once out in space, it will continue its journey by the radiation pressure of the sun’s rays!

  “For this purpose, it is specially equipped with telescoped arms which extend from equal points of the ship’s stem. Motors will operate the arms and push them to their full length. Then sheets of metal foil will be drawn along them by cable guides. The ship will then have metallic “wings” whose total area will be almost a square mile! The beating of the sun’s rays on this will push the ship forward through frictionless space, stabilized by a gyroscope. The power is unlimited, thus allowing the precious rocket fuel to be used for landing purposes.

  “The Sci-tri is confident that this ship will traverse space successfully. Your destination will be Mars. Other ships, with the same motive power, will also be sent to other planets in the near future. When you have landed, it shall be your duty to radio back to us the conditions. There will be much hardship, but the glory will ring forever!

  “Gentlemen, do you wish to resign from this expedition?”

  DIK sat flushed of face. In that age, there were small opportunities to indulge in daring deeds and bravery. This was the grand chance, and he would be the last to shrink from it. He bounded to his feet and shouted that he was as eager to go as any man could be. An answering shout from the others made the decision unanimous.

  “The Sci-tri is proud of you,” said the voice. “Farewell and good luck!” Thereupon a curtain fell from the ceiling, shutting off the Sci-tri rotunda from the forum. Down the aisle strode a man in the uniform of a guard. He was a man well on in years, yet his lithe body cast age from him. An overhead amplifier buzzed to life.

  “Gentlemen, Commander Jari 6P-88 of the Intelligence is before you. He will take charge of you from now on, The Sci-tri transfers to him full authority. Your families will be informed of your departure from State life in the usual way. From this moment on, your connection with the world at large has ceased.”

  The youths saluted Commander Jarl and, at his order, strode from the room in stiff formation. They were taken to the private turbo-car system of the Sci-tri, and from there were transferred to an airport.

  With a thunder of rockets, the stratosphere ship hurtled into the night sky. Where they were going, none of them knew.

  Tom looked across at Dik.

  “Well, Star-eater, what do you think of it?”

  The other fumbled with his fingers. “Funny thing, Tom, but now that I’ve had a few moments to think it over, I feel queer about it. It doesn’t seem such a grand martyrdom after all. I think there’s a Dark Moon in it somewhere.”

  Tom threw up his hands and cried, “Another Dark Moon!”

  “I wasn’t wrong about the first one, was I?” pursued Dik.

  “Just a lucky guess. You’ve been Dark Mooning so many things that it’s against the law of averages not to guess correctly a few times.”

  “The whole thing is, Tom, that your mind isn’t as anal . . .”

  “Please,” burst in the other. “Let’s not go into that again.”

  Dik nodded his head with a smug expression of contentment on his face, as though he had won the argument. They remained silent for the rest of the voyage.

  A sudden jar told them that the stratosphere ship was preparing for a landing. The drumming of the rockets became louder, concentrated at the nose of the ship. At last the rocket noises ceased. Then came the hum and throb of electric motors pushing out the landing wings. Even this sound died, and in utter silence, the great ship cleaved the air for its landing. Then a new sound came to their ears. It was the base landing siren, clearing the field for the mammoth of the upper air. Like some dying gargantuan monster, it shrieked its warning.

  They stepped from the ship into the cold, frosty air of early morning. The others of their class joined them from other compartments. AH about them stretched the mazes that bespoke a mighty metropolis.

  Commander Jarl hustled them along to an eating room and supplied their wants. Then a short turbo-car ride brought them to a long, low building that was patroled with numerous guards with Sci-tri uniforms. Inside the building, they were assigned rooms in pairs and told they could sleep till noon. All were tired and went to bed promptly.

  At noon a bell clanged them awake. They were ushered into a great mess hall where hundreds of other youthful Air School students like themselves, were partaking of food. After the meal, Commander Jarl spoke to them and outlined their course of training, which would take many weeks.

  They had seen the new space-ship. It was a dream of mechanical and scientific perfection. Weeks passed in thorough training in its mysteries. They grew to love it, for it was to be their last connection with life.

  The crew was to consist of nearly two hundred, each having strict duties. A youth by the name of Lon 3M-883 was appointed captain, having rated highest in the final examinations. Everyone liked him. He was of slight build, but known to have amazing physical prowess.

  LON had been in the same class as Dik and Tom and had long sensed their close companionship. He had the foresight not to separate them in their duties aboard the ship.

  He detailed them to work side by side in the engine room. A friendship sprang up between the three youths while yet on earth, and before the final departure, they were inseparable pals.

  The weeks went by, and finally Commander Jarl announced the day appointed for departure. Feverish hours of preparation constituted the remaining time. Supplies had to be stored—oxygen tanks, food, fuel, and other equipment in such huge quantities that it seemed the ship could hardly hold it.

  One thing had puzzled Dik for many weeks. He confided his suspicions to Lon and Tom and held their interest with his speculations. The world in general had always rumored that the Sci-tri had a secret laboratory so immense and wonderful that it defied description. But no one knew where it was. Some had guessed it to be in the Amazon jungles, and others in equally outlandish places.

  But it took Dik’s inquisitiveness to reveal that they were right in it!—and a number of shrewd guesses made it fairly certain that they were in the heart of Siberia!

  “You see, fellows,” finished Dik, “The reason we were brought here so mysteriously in the dead of night, is because they want no one to suspect that in Siberia lies the secret laboratory of the Sci-tri. Mark my word, there’s a flock of Dark Moons in this, and I’m going to find out all I can before we leave earth.”

  He was as good as his word. The night before their grand take-off, Lon and Tom waited for Dik in his room, anxiously wondering what had happened to him. He had vanished into thin air after the evening meal. Neither of them wanted to raise a general alarm, for it might go bad for Dik. The breaking of disciplinary rules meant severe punishment—and the treason of spying on Sci-tri affairs would merit instant death!

/>   It was nine o’clock when Lon again looked at the time. Anxiety was written all over his face. “Do you think he has . . . deserted—escaped somehow?”

  “No,” answered Tom quickly. “Not Dik. I know him too well to think he would skip and leave us without a word.”

  “This is a big thing, Tom,” said Lon, referring to the trip in space, about which they had previously been talking. “Look at my hands—they’re shaking! Tomorrow we leave—out into space! Out into that emptiness . . . something gone wrong . . . the ghastly cold . . . hideous death . . .”

  Tom put a comforting hand to the youthful captain’s shoulder. “Don’t talk like that, Lon! We must control our emotions—and our imaginations! It’s dangerous—yes, it’s a big thing . . . a fearful thing!”

  The door softly opened. Dik slunk in quietly, closed the door carefully, and then faced them with a mirthless grimace.

  As the other two stared at him in relief that he was safe, and in perturbation at his strange expression, Dik slid into a chair. He rubbed his hands, for the night air had been cold. Then he leaned forward and whispered tensely: “I saw it!”

  “Saw what?” asked Tom.

  “The laboratory!”

  “What!” cried the other two in unison, leaning forward.

  “It’s astounding,” began Dik. “Of course, I had only a long-distance view of it, but I saw enough. You’ve seen Universal—well, that doesn’t come within a stone’s throw of this place for machinery and activity. But aside from that, I saw something that nearly made me lose my perch. I mentioned before that I thought it strange that a base should have a metal wail around it. Why should it? It set me thinking. It made me think that this was the Sci-tri secret laboratory. Since then, I’ve studied the buildings. The Mechanics Building, which extends the entire width of the spacenautics headquarters, is extremely high—so high that I figured there must be something behind it that the Sci-tri wanted none of us to see. Just this evening, I decided to test my theory, so I sneaked to the Mechanics Building and climbed it by means of its corner carvings . . .”