20 Million Miles to Earth

by Henry Slesar

  “Don’t look so frightened, Enrico. Yes, I have seen the beast. He is big and ugly, but he is not invincible. We must not have any fear of him. With our guns and our flame-throwers—”

  Enrico muttered and crossed himself. “They say guns do not harm him.”

  “Then we will use fire. Fermati!”

  He halted the men again, and his arm pointed to the rippling water beneath them, “There! By the river!” Their eyes strained to see, and the police dogs began to bay.

  “The creature!” Enrico gasped. He tugged at his gunbelt, his face white.

  “Wait! We must get closer—”

  Now they were in full sight of the beast, rearing on its splayed legs to stare at them in surprise and anger at being disturbed. It was the dogs who were most reckless; they tore their way from the leashes of the Carbinieri, and went running towards the startled monster at the river’s edge.

  The creature bellowed at the barking animals streaming towards it. Then it turned and made for a high, tree-dotted incline some ten yards away.

  “He escapes!” Enrico cried.

  “No!” the Commissario said. “The incline is too steep —he is caught—”

  The beast’s predicament encouraged them. One after another, the Carbinieri drew their pistols and began to fire at the monster. Desperately, the beast was trying to scale the incline and escape the rapidly - approaching force that was coming to do him hurt.

  “We’ve got him!” Enrico cried joyfully.

  But even as the words came from his mouth, they saw the

  creature rear back and make a mighty spring towards the crest of the incline. For a moment, its foot slipped on the loose shale, then its taloned hands dug into the rock and held firm. Another second and it was atop the incline, bellowing defiantly at its pursuers.

  They stood below and fired at it, without effect on the scaly hide. It hissed and growled, and then turned to vanish behind a rim of rocks.

  “After it!” the Commissario yelled. “Don’t let it escape!”

  They made an assault upon the steep side of the incline. Laboriously, they made the climb, the rocks slipping beneath their feet in miniature landslides. When they came to the top of the talus, the creature turned upon them with a snarl.

  “Enrico! The flamethrowers—”

  The men with the incendiary weapons came hastily to take the front position before the Commissario, planting themselves in firing attitudes directly in front of the threatening creature.

  “Fire!”

  A whoosh of flame burst from the snouts, aimed directly at the beast. Tips of fire reached it, and the creature screamed in agony and turned to flee.

  “After him! After him!”

  The flamethrowers were on the chase, fire spewing from their weapons. Again, the scorching white tips touched the creature. Its scream was wild; it made for the safety of a large boulder surrounded by shrubbery. The flames crackled into the dry brush, and it burst into a ball of fire.

  “The smoke!” Enrico said. “Be careful!”

  White clouds were pouring from the flaming bush, forming a smoke-screen between the Commissario’s men and the creature, choking their lungs and blocking their view while the alien beast fled.

  “Back! Back!” the Commissario ordered, gathering his forces away from the windward side of the smoke and flames. Angrily, he hefted his binoculars to his eyes and tried to pierce the white fog that his own weapons had created.

  But his eyes found nothing.

  “We have lost him,” he said bitterly. “Now we must separate, so that we can cover more territory. The beast must be found!”

  The helicopter dipped low over the terrain, and Colonel Calder peered over the side and pointed down to the billowing smoke.

  “Forest fire!” he shouted.

  “Want to go down?”

  “No! But let’s drop and have a look—”

  The pilot leaned on the stick, and the whirlybird descended at a steep angle in the direction of the fire. They scanned the area for some five minutes, but saw nothing.

  Then the Colonel spotted something in the distance. He clapped his hand on the pilot’s shoulder to draw his attention.

  “Look! I think we’ve found . him!”

  “Mother of God!” the pilot said, at his first sight of their prey.

  In the distance, they saw the creature standing beside a bubbling pool of sulfur. Calder reached for the radiophone and beamed in the companion ’copter.

  “Dr. Uhl! I think we’ve spotted the animal. It looks like it’s after the sulfur pits. We’re going in.”

  “Right,” the Doctor said. “Only give us a chance to follow you, Colonel. Don’t forget —we’re the boys with the net.”

  “I won’t,” Calder said tightly. His lips and eyes were grim.

  They could see the creature raising its awesome head, now larger than before, at the sound of the approaching motors.

  “Circle him!” Calder said. “Look for a clear spot for us to land in.”

  The whirlybird dropped lower, heading straight for the creature. It spun about, its jaws snapping in hatred at the annoying sound of spinning rotors.

  “Here they come!”

  They saw the second helicopter appearing to the left, its steel-wired net hanging beneath the fuselage. The creature saw it, too, and its head moved uncertainly, not sure which strange Earthbird was going to attack first. It turned and headed for the shadows of a large rock.

  “Damn!” Calder said. “We can’t use the net unless we get it out in the open!”

  “Maybe if we fired at it—”

  “Wouldn’t do any good. The thing’s impervious to bullets . . . Wait! We’ll drop some of this nice pure sulfur out of the ’copter. Maybe that’ll tempt our friend!”

  They guided the craft towards the cowering beast, and Calder reached behind him for a sulfur sack. They opened the hatch, and he sent the sack plummeting towards the ground, not fifteen yards from the creature. Swiftly the ’copter rose again, just as the sack burst open and spilled the powdery stuff over the ground.

  “Once more!” Calder yelled.

  Another sack went hurtling towards the creature, missing him by only a few feet.

  “You ever been a bombardier, Colonel ?” the pilot grinned.

  “Look! It’s working—”

  The creature was emerging from its hiding place, its nostrils sniffing the good smell of the raw sulfur.

  Calder grabbed the radiophone. “It’s taking the bait, Doc. We’re ready to move now!”

  “Okay. Stand by!”

  The second helicopter was moving slowly to the scene. The creature, sorely tempted by the food it craved, was heading cautiously towards the spilled sulfur. Then its taloned hand was scooping it up, stuffing it between its dragon-like jaws, filling its ravenous stomach.

  “Doc’s ready to move in,” Calder said tautly. “Put us down on the other side of those rocks.”

  The pilot nodded.

  The moment they touched ground, the hatch opened and the armed men sprung out, their carbines ready.

  “Bring that generator out here!” Calder said. “And for God’s sake, keep out of sight of that thing!”

  Swiftly, moving with as little noise as possible, the soldiers performed the unloading operations, ducking low behind the rocks to avoid the eyes of the creature.

  “Here she comes.” Calder’s eyes were on the second ’copter. “Let’s have that walkie-talkie.”

  A soldier handed him the instrument. He put his mouth to the receiver and said: “Easy, Doc, easy. You’re almost over the beast now. Just a little more ... get as close as you can . . .”

  Then—

  “Drop it!”

  Overhead, they saw the second helicopter sway directly over the creature, and the steel-wired net fell free of the undercarriage. Despite its weight, it seemed to hang too long in the air—then it dropped heavily towards the creature.

  They heard the beast’s scream of rage as the weight of th
e net knocked it to the ground. It began struggling 84 for freedom at once, its talons ripping at the steel threads, its feet lashing out furiously.

  “Now!” Calder said.

  The armed soldiers ran towards the scene, with the Colonel leading the charge. Bringing up the rear came two men carrying the portable generator.

  “Hold him down! Don’t let him out!”

  The soldiers hurried towards the edges of the net, and tried to prevent the beast from thrashing its way free. Quickly, they tried to drive the net into the ground with spikes, but the creature’s wild movements made it impossible.

  By now, the second ’copter had come to roost, and Calder was shouting: “Cable!”

  One of the men with the generator came running towards the net, dragging an electric cable, an open clamp on the end. The other poised at the switch, waiting for the Colonel’s signal.

  “Clamp it! Now!”

  The contact was made.

  “Jump free!” the Colonel yelled. “Hit it!”

  The man at the generator was staring blankly at the thing beneath the net. Dr. Uhl came racing to his side. He reached over and depressed the activating switch.

  With a horrendous shriek, and a violent upheaval of its body, the creature reacted to the electrical charge coursing through the steel wires of the imprisoning net.

  Then, with a moan, it lay still.

  “Careful,” Calder said. “Wait—”

  The creature thrashed once more, and lay still.

  “We’ve done it!” Dr. Uhl said, running towards the Colonel. “We’ve got him, Bob!”

  Calder said: “Cut the switch.” When it was done, he walked slowly towards the vast, ungainly hulk of the unconscious beast.

  “Thank God,” he said softly. “Now we can find out. Now we can learn how ...”

  Over the rise, dusty figures appeared and surrounded the scene.

  “It’s the Commissario,” Dr. Uhl said.

  The police chief walked towards them slowly. He paused at the Colonel’s side and looked down mournfully at the monstrous prisoner under the net.

  “I am sorry,” he said stiffly.

  “For what?”

  “Sorry that we did not find it first, Colonel. I know it is important to you, to have this thing alive. But I wish I had found it and destroyed it. I really do.”

  “It’s worth more alive, Commissario. That may be hard for you to understand. But the creature is our ticket back into space.”

  “Perhaps,” the Commissario said gravely. “But only the devil could create such a monster, Colonel. What good is a world where others of this kind breed?”

  “What good was this world,” Calder said gratingly, “when the dinosaurs roamed Sicily? You’re being superstitious, Commissario. I thought you were a sensible man.”

  “Very well,” the Commissario said, and waved to his men with an air of defeat.

  CHAPTER VIII Probing the Unbelievable

  THERE was excitement in the air of Rome. It was a city accustomed to excitement, since the days when Caesar’s legions marched down its streets. But this excitement had a quality of its own. It circulated in odd patches throughout the city: in the bars and taverns where the newsmen gathered, in the offices of the constabularies, in the museos where whispered rumors told of something strange and marvelous which had come to Rome. And yet it seemed as if even the citizens in the streets knew that this day was different, as if some subconscious sense informed them that Rome had been changed by some momentous event, had become the headquarters of an occurrence such as the world had never witnessed before.

  But the center of the excitement was an impressive stone building set among the monuments of the ancient and eternal city, a building whose facade bore the seal of the great United States of America.

  All day long, people had been coming and going through the doors of the American Embassy, avoiding the bullet-firing of reporters’ questions, ducking in and out of limousines, maintaining an air of mysterious secrecy concerning the conversations that were taking place behind the stone walls.

  There had been world-renowned scientists spotted among the visitors, dignitaries from virtually every country in the free world, military figures resplendent in the uniforms of America and Italy.

  In the Embassy anteroom, a crowd of buzzing newsmen stood around impatiently, waiting for some official word. The majority were sober-faced, middle-aged men who wore the subdued, slightly fatigued look of the foreign correspondent, representatives of newspapers and news services that spanned the world. There were women among them, too, who if anything, were even more impatient than the men. Two Marines, sturdy and implacable in their full dress uniforms, flanked an inner door, looking impassable. The sound of speculating talk was everywhere.

  “I don’t get it,” one journalist said. “Maybe they’ve rounded up some Soviet spies.”

  “I don’t think so. I think it’s another cabinet crisis—”

  “Then why all the scientists? I’ll bet it’s got something to do with nuclear tests—”

  “You’re crazy. Why is it in Rome?”

  Round and round the conversations went, until the inner door suddenly opened, and a bland-faced attache put his head outside.

  All talk stopped.

  “If you will come in please,” the attache said politely.

  There was no hesitation in the forward movement of the crowd. They pushed eagerly towards the doors.

  Once inside, they saw that chairs had been arranged for their convenience, facing a podium at the- end of the room. There were two military figures flanking the podium. One was a bull-necked Major General; the other was a tense-faced young Colonel. Seated beside them was a white-haired dignitary representing the Italian Government; most of the local correspondents recognized him as Signore Contino. On a wooden table to the left of the podium, there was a bank of telephones.

  “You will find seats, please,” the attache told them. They separated quickly, vying for the best viewing position. The General, busily consulting a sheaf of papers in his lap, seemed oblivious to the excitement his presence had caused.

  After a moment, when the room was silent, he got up and went to the podium.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the press.”

  He saw them flip open their notebooks.

  “As you are all probably aware, there was an air crash ten days ago off the coast of Sicily. There have been many rumors concerning that air tragedy. Not until now have I received permission from my government to give you the facts exactly as they are at this time.”

  The crowd stirred, and General McIntosh picked up a cablegram from the podium.

  “This cablegram has been signed by the United States Secretary of Defense. It reads —Tn the face of widespread speculation, and after consultation with various foreign governments, the President has authorized release of all information to press and news agencies for their immediate publication.’ ”

  He looked up again. From his chair, Colonel Calder watched the General, and a faint smile came to his lips. He sensed that there was something of the showman in McIntosh’s manner. The General knew he had a fascinated audience, and was making the most of the moment.

  “I have prepared a statement,” he continued, and flipped the papers in his hand.

  “The airship XY-21 which crashed into the Mediterranean Sea on the eleventh, was a single-stage Astral propelled rocket launched thirteen months ago from a site within the United States. You will understand why I cannot mention the exact place.”

  The correspondents murmured in excitement at this announcement.

  “The rocket, with its complement of seventeen men, landed on the planet Venus—”

  Now the reaction seemed to explode among the General’s audience, in audible cries of surprise and wonder.

  “Venus!”

  “The planet Venus!”

  The General waited patiently until their voices subsided.

  “This expedition has been in the making fo
r almost four years. Its secret has been as well kept as the Manhattan Project of World War II. The planet Venus was chosen as our primary destination because of certain discoveries by the Palomar Observatory almost six years ago, discoveries that are now public knowledge. There are mineral elements on the planet that are considered of great value to the world; radioactive elements sufficient to supply the requirements of atom power plants for countless generations. This fact alone has made our expedition to Venus of vast economic and strategic importance. There are other considerations, too. Some of them might be regarded as —” He paused, and looked at Colonel Calder with a smile. “You might say actually spiritual.”

  Calder hid his answering grin.

  “The seventeen men chosen for this hazardous journey had to undergo what is probably the most rigorous training program known to modern history. The full details of that program, as well as other pertinent and nonclassified facts concerning the expedition, will be covered in a report now in preparation in Washington.”

  “The expedition was successful. The landing was made on Venus, and special breathing apparatus employed to enable the crew to survive in the oxygen-less atmosphere of the planet. However, after a few days of exploration, the equipment mysteriously failed. An unidentified poison in the atmosphere attacked the crew. Eight died on the planet and were buried there. I will not reveal their names as yet. This will be done later.”

  The crowd hummed.

  “The other crewmen managed to leave the planet before the strange poison took their lives. But misfortune still dogged their trail. On the return flight to Earth, the XY-21 was struck by a meteor, and the ship was irreparably damaged. It plunged into the sea off the fishing village of Gerra in Sicily. There was an heroic rescue of the one survivor of that crash—Colonel Robert Calder, seated beside me—the pilot of the XY-21 and Commander of the expedition.”

  Now the heads were turned in Calder’s direction. The Colonel looked at the floor.

  McIntosh placed his papers on the podium.

  “Now I must bring you up to date, to tell you why we have come to Rome and called this press conference. There were specimens brought back from the planet Venus, specimens mineralogical, botanical, and—animal. In the crash of the spaceship, all but one specimen was lost. That one, fortunately, was the most valuable, because it represented the embryo of a Venusian creature for which we have as yet no name.”