“The Watchers?” Curt repeated sharply. “Who are they? And what do they have to do with the Birthplace of Matter?”
Big Hol Jor shrugged.
“It’s just an old tradition that Ber Del mentioned — probably only a baseless legend.”
“I wish I were sure it’s only a legend,” muttered the old Vegan nervously. “For if it should be true, the man who finally finds the Birthplace will enter a peril beyond anything ever dreamed.”
Chapter 6: City Beneath the Ice
DIM in the darkness stretched the rolling ashen plains of the dark-star world. Wrapped in the somber obscurity of eternal death and night lay this once — mighty sphere. Only at one point did ruddy light beacon through the dusk. Captain Future and his friends had set up an atomic glower in the camp of the castaways. They sat around it now, the wrecked star-sailors eagerly sharing a meal of frozen Jovian beef and Earth bread and Uranian fruits that Curt had brought from the frozen-storage compartment of his ship. The bright radiance of the glower dispelled the chill and darkness. It gleamed off the hull of the Comet, wavered over the shattered hulk of the nearby wreck and picked out the strangely assorted group around it — Curt Newton, tanned, handsome, keen-eyed, Grag’s mighty metal limbs, and Otho’s lithe white figure, the brooding lens-eyes of the Brain and the faces of the old Vegan, the two Antarians and the Fomalhautian and Sagittarian.
They talked for hours, these strangely-met star-captains from far-separated parts of the galaxy. Fascinating to Captain Future were the tales these men could tell of exploration and adventure and dire peril and marvelous beauty which they had met with in intrepid voyages through this region of the starry universe.
“ — and so we combed sun after sun in that part of the star-cluster.” It was Ki Lllok, the brown Sagittarian, who was speaking in his clipped, curt way. “We saw wonders on some of those weird worlds! But the sight I’ll never forget is the night sky of those worlds — all the suns of the cluster blazing in the heavens like a million moons.”
Old Ber Del, the withered blue Vegan, nodded his hairless head.
“I was through some of those star clusters, years ago. It’s crazily dangerous piloting, picking your way through those thousands of swarming suns. I remember we’d picked up a load of rare metal in there and were heading back for Vega when we got into trouble running between the two suns of a double star. We were lucky to see our own worlds again.”
Otho’s green eyes were sparkling with excited interest.
“If you chaps have been going and coming between stars here for so long, why is it you’ve never visited our own sun, Sol?” he asked them.
Hol Jor, the giant Antarian, answered.
“Your sun is too far across the galaxy! No ship of ours could make it in less than many years. In this part of the universe, where the stars are much closer together, interstellar travel has been feasible.”
Taunus Tar, the fat pink star-captain from Fomalhaut, nodded agreement.
“It is so,” he told Captain Future. “That is why we were so awe-stricken when we learned how far across the universe you had come.”
“We had a strong motive for the voyage,” Curt Newton said earnestly. “One of the worlds of our System is dying from failing atmosphere. Only the secret of complete matter-mastery can revive it. And only at the Birthplace of Matter can that secret be learned.”
Old Ber Del nodded understanding.
“I came searching for the Birthplace with the same motive. My native world at Vega is dying. And it was a similar purpose that brought Hol Jor and the others on their separate quests, which ended in disaster.”
Curt’s jaw hardened.
“My quest isn’t ended yet. It has to go on, somehow. For the life of a world, the future of a people, depend on it.
“You were telling me something about a legend or tradition connected with the Birthplace of Matter — something about the Watchers. What is the story?”
Hol Jor snorted.
“It’s just a crazy yarn you hear from many star peoples. They’ve been telling it for ages.”
“I don’t know — there may be truth in it,” muttered old Ber Del. “Maybe someone, long ago, did penetrate to the Birthplace and brought out this story. That’s what they say, anyway.”
The old Vegan bent toward Curt.
“The story was to the effect that the Birthplace does exist far inside the cosmic cloud, but that it is guarded by mysterious wardens with unhuman powers, who are called the Watchers and who allow no one to gain the secret of matter-mastery from the Birthplace.
“It is a fact,” he continued thoughtfully, “that no star-rover who went into the cloud has ever returned.”
Captain Future’s brow knitted.
“It’s a queer legend, this story of the Watchers. But we’ll worry about that when — and if — we get inside the cloud.” He looked at the castaways. “We’re going on, if we can find terbium to repair our ship. But what about you five?”
Hol Jor made an eager proposal to Curt.
“Why don’t you take us with you, as crew? We’re all willing to try bucking the cloud with you. We can help, maybe, with our small knowledge of the currents, and, once inside, you may need five star veterans like ourselves.
“We’re all after the same thing,” the big red Antarian went on earnestly. “We all want to secure the secret of matter-mastery from the Birthplace to help our worlds and peoples. Together, we’d have a better chance of winning that secret. And if we did get out with it, you could help us reach our own stars before you start home to yours.”
CURT looked at the other castaways.
“Do you all feel the same way about it?”
“I do,” replied Ki Illok curtly.
The fat, good-humored face of Taunus Tar bobbed in agreement.
“Anything is better than starving on this forsaken globe.”
Old Ber Del also nodded.
“We have nothing to lose and much to gain by joining you if you’ll have us.”
“Then it’s settled!” Captain Future said calmly.
“So now we’ve got a foreign legion of the stars!” grinned Otho.
“The first and biggest problem facing us,” Curt told his new partners, “is the finding of terbium to repair the driving ring of the Comet. Without the vibration drive, we can’t buck through those currents into the cloud. Is there any terbium in your wreck?”
Ber Del shook his head.
“Not a scrap of it. I never heard of terbium being used in any ordinary space-ship.”
“That makes it tougher,” Curt Newton admitted. “Simon, what do you think of our chances of finding terbium on this dead sun?”
“It’s a very slim chance, lad,” rasped the Brain. “This dark star contains only the gaseous elements of its original solar life, now solidified. Terbium would not be among them. But I’ll check with the element-resonator and make sure.”
Curt yawned, feeling the reaction of many hours of strain.
“I need sleep. Grag will help you with the job, Simon.”
Captain Future slept with the other star rovers around the cheerful flare of the atomic glower, as deeply as though he were not slumbering on a dead sphere.
WHEN he and the others awakened, they saw Grag and Simon hovering over a complicated instrument they had brought from the Comet. It was an element resonator, that could detect the presence of any element at extreme ranges. It operated by emitting narrowly-tuned vibrations that were reflected back only by the selected element, no matter what the distance.
“Any luck?” Curt asked, rubbing his eyes as he joined them.
“None, lad,” replied the Brain succinctly. “As I feared, there is no terbium on this sun.”
Otho swore.
“There wouldn’t be, just because we need it so badly.”
“Now what, chief?” Grag asked anxiously, while Hol Jor and the other star rovers waited anxiously for Curt’s decision.
Captain Future shrugged, “If there’s no
terbium on this dead star, we have to look elsewhere. We can’t go far without the vibration drive. The only possible nearby source is one of the two planets of this ancient sun.”
“But they’re covered deep with ice,” objected Hol Jor.
“We’ll have to get down through the ice, if we locate terbium on one of them,” Captain Future replied. “That ought to be possible — if the terbium is there.”
An hour later, they had all entered the Comet, ready for the search for the vital metal. The ship blasted skyward with comparative slowness on the rocket drive. Grag steered it toward the innermost of the two planets that circled the burned-out star. The small world was a forbidding spectacle as they circled over it. It was covered to a great depth by solid ice — ice which was not only frozen water but frozen air. It presented a blank, barren white surface.
“Some place to go terbium mining I” muttered Otho. “What does the resonator say, Simon?”
The Brain was intently directing the instrument to and fro across the icy surface of the frozen world. His lens-like eyes watched the floating bubble of light that was its indicator.
“The resonator indicates the presence of terbium not far northwest of here,” he rasped, “Fly slowly in that direction.”
The Comet moved at reduced speed over the icy plain. The Brain watched his instrument, calling directions to Grag. Presently, at Simon’s request, the ship was brought to a halt.
“There is positive resonance from terbium directly underneath us,” the Brain announced. “The terbium is under the ice.”
“So now all we have to do is clear the ice away,” said Otho. “Well, give Grag a shovel and let him go to it.”
Hol Jor looked astonished.
“But it’ll take years to clear away that great depth of ice by such methods!”
Curt Newton smiled.
“Otho was only joking. Our proton-beams can disintegrate ice as swiftly as any other matter. We’ll have to fan them out so as to cover a wide area at one time.”
Adjustment was quickly made of the big proton-cannon used ordinarily as the armament of the Comet. Then they jetted their powerful rays, not in their ordinary highly concentrated beam, but in broad fans of force that combined to sweep a great area.
The ice began to melt over an area of half a square mile. It was not melting into Water — it was melting into nothingness.
Down and down sank the level of the square area. After a half hour, they had cut down through two thousand feet of the ice.
The ship continued to sink slowly downward into this great square well in the ice, keeping its fanned beams playing. At last, brown rock appeared as they melted the last of the ice.
Grag landed the ship on the rock, playing its searchlights about in the semi-gloom of this deep well they had cut.
“This rock doesn’t look like terbium-bearing mineral at all,” muttered the Brain. “But the resonator can’t have erred.”
They emerged in their space-suits. Curt made a quick examination of the rock beneath them. Puzzled, he and Simon extended their investigation. Finally, they stopped, baffled.
“There’s no terbium in this rock!” the Brain exclaimed, chagrined. “I must have misread the resonator.”
They went back into the ship and again consulted the element-resonator. And then their bewilderment increased.
“The resonator still shows terbium right here!”Simon cried. “Why, this is impossible.”
At that moment came a cry from Hol Jor, who with the other star rovers and Otho had been roaming the surface of the rock.
“Come here!” came Hol Jor’s call, heard over the audiphones that interconnected their space-suits.
Captain Future and Simon hastened to the others. They found them gathered in an excited group.
“Look at that, chief!” Otho cried.
In the brown rock at their feet was a massive circular door of corroded metal that fitted with hermetical tightness into an aperture in the rock.
“This was made by human hands,” Curt muttered. “Must have been long ago, though.”
Old Ber Del nodded.
“Probably it’s a relic of the people of this planet who fled to the dark star when this world froze up — the ancestors of those grotesque mineral-men.”
They brought tools from the ship and pried at the door. Finally they loosed the massive disk of metal, and heaved it aside.
They exposed a round shaft in the rock, in which a graceful spiral stair of metal dropped into dim obscurity. And air was rising slowly from the opening in a perceptible current.
“The terbium indicated by the resonator must be down here somewhere,” muttered the Brain.
“We’re going to see,” Curt declared. “You and Otho and Hol Jor come with me. The rest of you guard the ship.”
Flashing the ray of a hand torch to guide his path, keeping his other upon the butt of his proton-pistol, Captain Future started down the spiral stair. The others followed closely.
They descended for several hundred feet through the vertical shaft in the solid rock. Then the rock walls disappeared, and they perceived that beneath them lay a very large, dimly illuminated cavernous space to whose floor fell the spiral stairway. They reached the floor and stared about in awe. They had penetrated a vast cavern, obviously hollowed out by artificial forces and approximately a quarter-mile square. Dim blue ceiling lights of perpetual radioactive design shed a thin illumination over the air-filled cavern. And the floor of this whole vast underground space was covered by rows of thousands of oblong stone slabs. Upon each slab lay a motionless body.
WONDERINGLY, the adventurers approached the nearest slab to the stair. The man who lay upon it was young, smooth-skinned and of almost girlish prettiness. He was curiously gray in complexion, with dark hair upon which he wore a metal coronet. His garment was a long robe of white, and his eyes were closed. Similar men and women and children occupied all the other slabs.
“A place of the dead!” murmured Hol Jor awedly. “A great mausoleum of the people who once inhabited this world.”
“There’s something mysterious about this,” muttered Otho. “Where’s the terbium that the resonator indicated was down here?”
“Listen!” exclaimed the Brain suddenly, “Do you hear a sound of bells?”
They could hear nothing. But the supersensitive microphone ears of the Brain had not deceived him.
“It’s getting stronger,” he whispered. “A queer, rhythmic ringing —”
The others began to hear it then — fairy bells of unutterable sweetness-echoing from a great remoteness came the sound. There was a curious tone-pattern in the ringing. It was rousing, stimulating.
“I don’t like this!” Otho exclaimed uneasily. “A city of dead people, and bells beginning to ring —”
Captain Future’s eyes narrowed. He too felt a growing uneasiness. That tintinnabulation was growing louder and faster by the minute. Finally it reached a crescendo of ringing sound, halted for an instant of breathless hush, and then was followed by a single tremendous bell-note of almost deafening timbre.
“It must be some automatic mechanism actuated by our entrance here that made the sound,” Curt guessed rapidly. “But what could its purpose be?”
“For the love of the space-gods, look!” yelled Otho wildly, pointing. “The dead — they’re awaking!”
Chapter 7: Into the Cosmic Cloud
WITH a shock of unbelieving amazement, Curt Newton saw that the people on the slabs were stirring. Those motionless figures were twitching and turning and beginning to sit upright, like ordinary sleepers roused to wakefulness.
“Those bells brought them back to life somehow!” yelped Otho. “Let’s get out of here!”
“Wait, I think I’m beginning to understand this!” Curt exclaimed. “Go back and close that door of the shaft to prevent too much of the air in this cavern from escaping.”
Otho raced up the stair upon the errand. Captain Future and the others stood watching the amazing trans
formation taking place around them. Every man, woman and child upon the slabs had awakened. At first they looked around bewilderedly at each other. And then they burst into a frantic chorus of joyful shouts, a babel of cries.
“Why, I can understand their language,” Hol Jor declared. “It’s much the same as our own star languages.”
“Hear what they’re shouting?” Curt asked. “My guess about this was right.”
The newly-awakened sleepers were exclaiming in mad joy, “The Thousand have succeeded! Our sun has been rekindled, and our world has awakened to new life!”
Suddenly, as their first frantic joy quieted a little, the awakened sleepers became aware of the presence of Curt and Hol Jor and the Brain, watching them from the foot of the spiral stair. The rejoicing multitude recoiled a little, in surprise and alarm. Though a handsome, graceful race, these gray-skinned folk appeared of no great courage by the way they shrank back. From their midst finally stepped the young man who wore the coronet of authority on his dark hair. Doubtfully, he approached Curt.
“You are not of our people,” he said wonderingly to Captain Future. “Whence do you come?”
“From another star,” Curt answered quietly. “We found the door down into your cavern here only a few minutes ago.”
“You found the door?” echoed the young ruler of the sleepers. His eyes flashed with joy. “Then it is certain that the ice is gone from above, and that our sun has been rekindled by the Thousand.”
“We do not understand your reference,” Curt told him. “Why have you slept here, and how? And who are the Thousand?”
The young ruler of the gray sleepers explained.
“We are an ancient race, native to this world. We were so civilized that we had no more need of scientific progress, but could live a life of aesthetic ease and pleasure, happily pursuing the arts and served in all our needs by the machines our scientists had created. Only a thousand scientists were required to be trained each generation to keep our mechanical system in good operation.
Captain Future 09 - Quest Beyond the Stars (Winter 1942) Page 5