The Planet of the Blind

by Paul Corey

  It was a cold rain but walking kept us warm. On and on we went and the storm continued. I could barely see the road. I thought the deluge was getting worse. Then I realised that my sun-torch was failing.

  “My light’s going,” I yelled to Ello.

  “No matter.” She took my hand.

  I tossed the torch away. As my hand came down at my side I felt fur. “Cat’s with us,” I said gratefully.

  Ello murffed. We walked on.

  Cat stayed close, his soaked fur squeezed against my leg. Twice he mouthed my hand with gentle teeth. My other hand clung to Ello’s. I stumbled after her, knowing that she walked resolutely through the blackness.

  One hour. Two hours. I don’t know how long we kept at it. Years, my mind told me. A thousand miles, my legs felt, in their heaviness. I could hear Ello panting now from the effort. Only Cat seemed to move tirelessly.

  In this physically low state a terrible thought hit me. Suppose my ship has been moved. Suppose it’s in Lonwolt and we’re out here running exhausted through the darkness and will find nothing. And if it’s in Lonwolt and we’d known, we’d be away from the sightless world by now.

  I felt myself giving in to despair. I was on the point of telling these fears to Ello. The rain slackened a little. Suddenly I was aware of a pinkish glow suffusing the night.

  “They’ve fixed the damned converter,” I shouted.

  “Hurry.” She began to run, dragging me after her.

  Up ahead I could make out a deeper darkness that were the foothills. We must be close to where my ship came down, I thought. But I couldn’t see anything that confirmed the presence of the Wingul. Then the pink glow vanished.

  “It’s dead again.”

  Ello said nothing, only pulling at me harder.

  What’s the use, I thought, it won’t be there anyhow. They’ve surely moved it by now.

  Then Cat left my side, gone in the darkness. I heard the sound of a sob from Ello. Then, right before us, I made out the faint silhouette of my ship. I almost collapsed.

  What about Trom or other guards? Ello must have thought of that too. She buzzed loudly but got no reply. We reached the ramp. The airlock was open.

  “Get aboard quickly,” Ello said. “Goodbye, darling. Make it while you’ve got the chance.”

  “You’re coming with me.”

  “No, darling. I must stay with Father.”

  “He doesn’t need you and you don’t need him.” Anger gave me strength. I picked her up in my arms. A trembling went all through her, then she clung to me. I carried her up the steps and into the cabin.

  The moment I got inside my old action patterns came alive. I turned, with Ello still burdening me, until my hand could press the light panel. For an instant I thought I heard something fall. The cabin illumination came on. Nothing appeared changed. I put Ello down in the lounge chair and sprang to the control console.

  A paralysing moment of fear followed. Maybe my ship was still held. Maybe it had been tampered with, put out of commission. I pushed the flight buttons.

  Up went the ramp. The airlock closed. A hum told me the anti-grav engines had started. I couldn’t tell whether we were moving or not. There was nothing visible in the viewport.

  Again fear. We were just fighting futilely against Grendan controls? Then I sensed the pressure climbing. I poured on all the power the little ship had to free us from the gravity of Grenda. I felt the G-pressure increase. This was not the usual way to take off. But we had to get away fast.

  We broke above the storm and into the bright light of Grenda’s sun. I put the Wingul on automatic and relaxed.

  My mind began pulling together memories and sensations. That sound of something falling when we came in. I glanced towards the airlock. There on the floor lay Ello’s glasses. The glint of broken glass told me that I must have stepped on them.

  Only that, I thought, and smiled. I saw Cat in the centre of the couch calmly washing himself.

  “Good old Cat,” I said.

  He stopped washing. He looked at me, tongue halfway out. Then he went at it again. Ello lay limp in the lounge chair. The evenness of her breathing indicated that she was asleep.

  My eyes came back to the viewport and I looked down upon the dark mass that was the storm over Grenda. We were high enough so that I could see beyond its fringes to the polar regions. Then I saw a pinkish glow growing in the clouds. Instantly I felt the pull on the spacerover.

  The Grendan hold grew. But the Wingul fought with all its power. I sat there tense, waiting. Helpless. Perhaps they hadn’t got the converter up to full strength because the pull suddenly lessened. Then we were free, in space and headed home.

  Almost at once communications came alive: “Earth calling Doctor Stone. Earth calling Doctor Stone. This is Space Rescue. Come in Doctor Stone.”

  There was a pause and I knew the call would be repeated. I punched the reply button. “Doctor Stone here. Everything fine. The Wingul will set down on schedule. Alert headquarters of TERRA-TESTING for immediate instructions.”

  Only a brief time lapse, then, “TERRA-TESTING here, sir. Glad to hear your voice, Doctor Stone.”

  “Where is Karen?”

  “On Mars, sir. Wi—with that man Jones, sir.”

  “I have made a discovery,” I said. “Start action for his immediate release.”

  “That Creativist, sir?” A pause. Then quickly, “As you say, Doctor Stone.”

  “Don’t be alarmed,” I said. “He will be tested. The secrets of a persimmon may have a place in our lives. All for now, but standby.”

  I got up and stretched. My bones and muscles seemed to scream with fatigue. My clothes were almost dry, but I decided to get into a fresh outfit. I showered and changed. Then I glanced at Ello and felt that she would be more comfortable on the bed. I went over to the lounge chair and picked her up.

  She stirred, stiffened against me slightly, then relaxed. I put her down gently on the couch and pushed Cat over.

  “Don’t hog the bed,” I told him. He didn’t even raise his head.

  I decided to stretch out a moment. That was all it took and I was asleep like the others.

  Hours later we awakened. Only Cat seemed to feel that it wasn’t worthwhile to admit it. Ello’s hands came up, fingers brushing her face lightly.

  “Where are my eyes?”

  “They fell off when we came aboard,” I explained. “I stepped on them.”

  “I won’t be able to see you now.” There was much disappointment and a little fear in her tone.

  I reached over and let my fingers gently caress that area on her face where eyes should be. What lay beneath those layers of soft beautiful skin?

  “Ello, darling, your planet with its tradition of blindness wished to make me blind. Perhaps my planet with a tradition of sight can give you vision.”

  I went to the communications panel and resumed contact.

  “T-T here,” came the quick acknowledgement.

  “Have an expert ophthalmologist, optician, and plastic surgeon at my villa when we arrive.”

  “We, sir? Yes, sir.”

  I broke contact again. I started the galley preparing something to eat, and resumed my seat on the bed.

  Cat awoke then. He punched me. When I looked up, he was watching the communication panel. A light blinked steadily. I moved fast to acknowledge.

  “Doctor Stone, Doctor Stone, this is Mun.”

  “Mun! Good to hear you. We made it.”

  Ello sat up buzzing, and buzzing came out of the communicator. Then the conversation came back to Terranese.

  Mun said, “I’ve just been telling Ello that her father is beginning to understand. He will become reconciled in time. I have checked your idea of conductors to protect our energy converter with our physicists. After analysing that steel knife you left behind, they agree that a quantity of that material might attract the force that unbalances our converters.”

  “I’m sure it will,” I said. “Our first ship to you will
have it.”

  Then he said, “Happiness to you both,” and broke contact.

  Before serving the meal from the galley to Ello in bed, and Cat, I raised T-T again. “And four steel towers for Grenda,” I said.