The Stars Are Ours! a-1

by Andre Norton

  “What’s your verdict?” Hogan wanted to know when they joined him bending over their capture. “Do we eat that, or don’t we?”

  “Give me but a few minutes and some aid in the laboratory and I shall have an answer to that. But this is close to Terran life. So it may be edible. And what were you watching by the cliffs-more dragons?”

  “Just passing the time of day with another, breakfasting party,” Hogan told him, and went on to explain about the duck-dogs.

  It was worth waiting for Kordov’s verdict, Dard thought later, as he savored the white flakes of meat, grilled under Kordov’s supervision, and portioned out to the hungry and none-too-patient crew.

  “At least we can chalk old pot-belly up on our bill of fare,” observed Rogan.

  “But finding this one may only be a fluke. It’s a deep-water fish and we won’t have storms to drive such ashore every day,” Kimber pointed out.

  He explored his lips with his tongue and then studied the empty plastic plate he held wistfully. “We can, however, look around for another stranded one.

  Cully unfolded long legs. “We’ll take out the sled now?”

  “The wind has died down-I’d say it was safe. And,” the pilot turned to Kordov, “how about rousing Santee and Harmon-we’re going to need them.”

  The First Scientist agreed. “But first Carlee, as a doctor. And then we shall bring out the others. You are leaving soon?”

  “We’ll tell you before we go. And we don’t intend to go far. Maybe a turn into that valley up ahead, and then along the shore for a mile or so. We may have landed in a wilderness-indications point to that-but I want to be sure.

  Until a sun breaking through the clouds overhead said it was noon they were hard at work. The sled, Dard discovered, was just what its name implied, a flat vehicle possessing two seats each wide enough for two passengers, with a space behind for supplies. He helped to assemble the larger sections while Kimber and Gully sweated and swore over the business of installing the engine.

  It was a flying craft Dard realized, but totally unlike a ’copter or rocket, and he did not see what would make it air borne without blades or tubes. When he said as much to Rogan the techneer leaned back against a convenient sand dune to combine rest and explanation.

  “I can’t tell you how it works, kid. The principle’s something really new. They whipped that engine together during the last months we were in the Cleft. But it’s some sort of anti-gravity. Takes you up and keeps you there until you shut it off. Broadcasts a beam which sends you along by pushing against the earth. If they had had the time they might have powered the ship with it. But there was only this one experimental sled built and we had to depend upon power we knew more about. How about it, Sim? Getting her together?”

  The pilot smiled through a streak of grease which turned his brown skin black.

  “Tighten that one bolt, Cully,” he pointed out the necessary adjustment, “and, she’s ready to lift! Or at least she should be. We’ll try her.”

  He boarded the shallow craft and settled himself behind the controls, buckling a safety belt around his hips before he triggered the motor. The sled zoomed straight up with a speed which sent the spectators sprawling and tore an exclamation from the pilot. Then, under Kimber’s expert hand, it leveled off and swung in a wide circle about the star ship. Finishing off the test flight with a figure eight, Kimber brought the sled back to a slow and studied landing on the now dry sand at the foot of the ramp.

  “Bravo!”

  That encouraging cheer came from the open hatch.

  Kordov beamed down at them and with him, one hand on the rail, her head lifted so that the sun made a red-glory of the braids wreathing it, was a woman. Dard stared up at her with no thought of rudeness. This was the Carlee who had taken care of Dessie.

  But she was younger than he had expected, younger and somehow fragile. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, and when she smiled at them, it was with a patient acceptance, which hurt. Kimber broke the silence as she joined the party below.

  “What do you think, Carlee?” he asked matter-of-factly, as if they had parted only the hour before and no tragedy lay between. “Would you trust yourself to this crazy flyer?”

  “With the right pilot at the controls, yes.” And then looking at each one she spoke their names slowly as if reassuring herself that they were really there. “Les Rogan, Jorge Cully and"-She reached Dard, hesitated, before her smile brightened-"why, you must be Dessie’s Dard, Dard Nordis! Oh, this is good-so good—” She looked beyond the men at the cliffs, the sea, the blue-green sky arching over them.

  “Now- before you start off, explorers,” Kordov announced, “there is food to be eaten.”

  The food was fish again, together with quarter portions of the concentrate cakes and some capsules Kordov insisted they take. When they were finished the First Scientist turned to Kimber.

  “Now that you have that sky-buggy of yours put together you will be off?”

  “Yes. There are four, maybe five hours of daylight left. I think that a survey from the air would show us more in that length of time than a trip on foot.”

  “You say “us.” Whom do you take with you?” asked Carlee.

  “Rogan- he’s had experience on Venus. And ”

  Dard held his tongue. He could not beg to go; Kimber would choose Cully, of course. The pilot didn’t want a green hand. He was so sure of that choice that he could hardly believe it when he heard Kimber say;

  “And the kid-he’s light weight. We don’t want to overload if we haul back game or specimens, too. Cully’s a crack shot and I’ll feel safer to leave him on guard here.”

  “Good enough!” Kordov agreed. “Just do not voyage too far, and do not fall off that silly ship of yours-to land on your heads. We have no time to waste patching up explorers who do not know enough to keep themselves right side up!”

  Thus Dard found himself sharing the pilot’s seat on the sled with Rogan crawling in behind. Kimber insisted that they buckle their safety belts under his supervision and he tested their fastenings before they took off. The rise of the light craft was not so abrupt as the first time and Kimber did not try to get much above the level of the cliff tops.

  They skimmed along only a few feet above the rock as they flashed north, the curving shoreline as their guide.

  From this height he had a good view to the west, seeing most of the wide valley through which the red river flowed. The low vegetation they sighted from the ship thickened into clumps of good-sized trees. And among these were flying things which did not appear to be dragons.

  Along the edge of the sea the cliff rose in an unbroken, perpendicular wall. Apparently the star ship had earthed in the only opening in it. For from the elevation of the sled they could sight nothing but that barrier of brilliantly hued stone dividing vegetation and low land from the heating sea.

  Rogan cried out and a moment later Dard, too, cringed as a ray of light struck painfully into his eyes. It flashed up from sea level, as if a mirror had been used to direct the sunlight straight at them. Kimber brought the sled around and ventured out over the water in a sweep designed to bring them to the source of that light.

  There was a scrap of beach, a few feet of sand across which the weed, driven up by the storm, lay. Kimber, with infinite caution, maneuvered to set them down there.

  When the sled jolted to earth its occupants stared in open amazement at the source of the mirrored ray.

  Protruding from the face of the cliff, as if from a pocket or hollow especially fashioned to contain it, was a cone-shaped section of metal. And not metal in a crude, unworked state, but of a finely fashioned and refined alloy!

  Dard split a fingernail on the buckle which fastened his belt in his haste to get to the find. But Kimber was already halfway across the sand before he gained his feet. The three, not quite daring to touch, studied the peculiar object.

  Kimber squatted down to peer under it. There was a thin ring of similar metal encircling t
he widest part of the cone, as if it rested within a tube.

  “A bullet in a rifle barrel!” Rogan found a comparison which was none too reassuring. “This a shell?”

  “I don’t think so.” Kimber pulled gently at the tip.

  “Let’s see if we can work it out.” From the sled he brought an assortment of tools.

  “Take it easy,” Rogan eyed these preparations askance.”If it is an explosive, and we do the wrong thing-we’re apt to finish up in pieces.”

  “It isn’t a shell,” Kimber repeated stubbornly. “And it’s been here a long time. See that?” He pointed to fresh scars on the cliff face. “That’s a recent break. Maybe the storm tore that down and uncovered this. Now-a little probing.”

  They worked gingerly at first, and then, when nothing happened, with more confidence-until they had it out far enough to see that the cone was only the tip of a long cylinder. Finally they hooked a chain to it and used the power of the sled to draw it completely free of the tube.

  Six feet long, it lay half in, half out of the water, a sealed opening showing midway in its length. Kimber knelt down before the tube and flashed his hand-light inside. As far as they could see ran a tunnel lined with seamless metal.

  “What in the name of Space is it, anyway?” Hogan wondered.

  “Some form of transportation, I would say.” Kimber still held the light inside as if by wishing alone he could deduce the destination of their discovery.

  Hogan prodded the cylinder with his foot and it rolled slightly. The techneer stooped and tugged at the end in the sand. To his astonishment he was able to lift it several inches above the beach.

  “A whole lot lighter than you’d think! I believe we could take it back on the sled!”

  “Hmm…” Kimber took Rogan’s place and hoisted.

  “We might at that. No harm in trying.”

  The three of them manhandled the cylinder on board the sled and lashed it into place-though both ends projected over the sides of the craft.

  Kimber was doubly careful in his take-off. He brought them up with much room to spare away from the cliff side and circled back toward the valley.

  “This answers one question,” Hogan leaned forward.

  “We aren’t the first intelligent life here.”

  “Yes.” The pilot added nothing to that bare assent. He was intent on reaching the star ship.

  Dard squirmed in his seat. He did not need to turn to see that smooth piece of metal, he could feel its presence and what its presence meant to all of them.

  Only intelligence, a high standard of intelligence could have fashioned it. And where was that intelligent life now? Watching and waiting for the Terrans to make the first fatal move?

  4: THOSE OTHERS!

  “EASY DOES IT NOW.” Cully laid down the chisel he had been using delicately and applied pressure with the flat of his hand.

  The others weren’t really breathing down his neck. But they did struggle against the curiosity which made them crowd about the engineer as he worked to open the cylinder.

  “It’s too light for an explosive,” Hogan repeated for about the fiftieth time since they had unloaded their find before the star ship.

  At a good vantage point up on the ramp Carlee Skort and Trude Harmon sat together while the men below tried to hand Cully tools he didn’t need and generally got in each other’s way. But now they had come to the last moment of suspense. After more than an hour’s work the engineer had been able to force open the small seal hatch.

  Cully bumped heads with Kimber and Kordov as he flashed a torch beam into the interior. Then, with infinite care, he began to hand out to eager assistants a series of boxes, small round containers and a larger, ornamented chest. All these were fashioned of the same lightweight alloy as the large carrier and they appeared unmarked by time.

  “Cargo carrier,” Kimber decided. “What can be in these?” He held one of the smallest boxes to his ear and shook it cautiously, but there was no answering rattle.

  Kordov picked up the chest, examining its fastening carefully. At last he shook his head and brought out a pocket knife, working the blade into the crevice between lid and side, using it to lever up the cover.

  Soft creamy stuff puffed up as the pressure of the lid was removed, fluffing over the rim. The First Scientist plucked it carefully away in strips. As the late afternoon sun struck full on the contents which had been protected by that packing, there was a concerted gasp from the Terrans.

  “What are they?” someone demanded.

  Kordov picked up a fine intwisted strand, dangling its length in the light.

  “Opals?” he suggested. “No, these are too hard, cut in facets. Diamonds? I don’t think so. I confess I have never seen anything like them before.”

  “A world’s ransom,” Dard did not know he had spoken aloud. The wild beauty swinging from Kordov’s hand drew him as no man-fashioned thing had done before.

  “Any more in there?” asked Kimber. “That’s a large box to hold only one item.”

  “We shall see. Girls,” Kordov held out the rope of strange jewels to the two women, “hang on to that.”

  Another layer of the packing was pulled out to display a pair of bracelets. This time red stones which Santee identified.

  “Them’s rubies! I prospected in the Lunar mountains and found some just like ’em. Good color. What else you. got there, Tas?”

  A third layer of packing led to the last and greatest wonder of all-a belt, five inches wide, with a clasp so set in gems as to be just an oval glitter-the belt itself fashioned of rows of tiny crystalline chains.

  Trude Harmon tried to clasp it about her waist to discover it would not meet by inches. Nor was Carlee able to wear it either.

  “Must have bin mighty slim, the girl what wore that!” Harmon commented.

  “Maybe she wasn’t a girl at all,” Carlee said.

  And there was something daunting in that thought.

  Carlee had been the first to put into words their lurking fear, that those who had packed the carrier had been nonhuman.

  “Well, bracelets argue arms,” Rogan pointed out. “And that necklace went around a neck. A belt suggests a waist-even if it is smaller than yours, girls. I think we can believe that the lady those were meant for wasn’t too far removed from our norm.”

  Santee pawed another box away from the pile. “Let’s see the rest.”

  The boxes were sealed with a strip of softer metal which had to be peeled from around the edge. And the first three they forced contained unidentifiable contents. Two held packages of dried twigs and leaves, the third vials filled with various powders and a dark scum which might have been the remains of liquid. These were turned over to Kordov for further investigation.

  Of the remaining boxes three were larger and heavier. Dard broke the end of the sealing strip on one and rolled it away. Under the lid was a square of coarse woven stuff folded over several times to serve as protective padding. Since this was like the jewel case the others stopped their almost delving and gathered around as he pulled the stuff loose. What he found beneath was almost as precious in its way as the gems.

  He dared not put his lingers on it, but worked it out of the container gently by the end of the metal rod on which it was wound in a bolt. For here was a length of fabric. But none of them-not even those who could remember the wonders of the pre-Burn cities-had ever seen anything such as this. It was opalescent, fiery color rippled along every crease and fold as Dard turned it around in the sunlight. It might have been spun from the substance of those same jewels which formed the necklace.

  Carlee almost snatched it from him and Trude Harmon inserted a timid finger under the edge.

  “It’s a veil!” she cried. “How wonderful!”

  “Open the rest of those!” Carlee pointed to the two similar boxes. “Maybe there’s more of this.”

  There was more fabric, not so sheer and not opalescent, but woven of changing colors in delicate subtle shades the Terrans coul
d not put names to. Inspired by this find they plunged into a frenzy of opening until Kordov called them to order.

  “These,” he indicated the wealth from the plundered boxes, “can’t be anything but luxury goods, luxury goods of a civilization far more advanced than ours. I’m inclined to believe that this was a shipment which never reached its destination.”

  “That tube we found the carrier in,” mused Kimber.

  “Suppose they shot such containers through tubes for long distances. Even across the sea. We didn’t transport goods that way, but we can’t judge this world by Terra. And they have no high tides here.”

  “Tas, Sim,” Carlee turned one of the bracelets around in hands which bore the scars of the hardworking Cleft life, “could they-are they still here? Those Others-?”

  Kimber got to his feet, brushing the sand from his breeches.

  “That’s what we’ll have to find out-and soon!” He squinted at the sun. “Too late to do anything more today. But tomorrow—”

  “Hey!” Rogan balanced on his palm a tiny roll of black stuff he had just pried out of a pencil-slim container. “I think that this is some kind of microfilm. Maybe we can check on that-if we can rig up a viewer which will take it.”

  Kordov was instantly alert. “How many of those things in there?”

  Rogan took them one at a time from the box he had opened. “I see twenty.”

  “Can you rig a viewer?” was Kordov’s next question.

  The techneer shrugged. “I can try. But I’11 have to get at machines we packed in the bottom storeroom-and that will take some doing.”

  “And"- Cully had been poking about in the interior of the now empty carrier-"there’s an engine in here must have supplied the motive power. I’d like to dig it out and see what makes it tick.”

  Kimber ran his hands over the tight cap of his hair. “And you’ll need a machine shop to do that in, I suppose?” He was very close to sarcasm. “There’s the problem of those still in the ship-what will we do?”

  Carlee broke in. “You haven’t found any signs of civilization yet-except this. And you don’t know how long this could have lain where you discovered it. We can’t hold off settlement until we are sure. The cities, or centers of civilization-if there are any-may he hundreds of miles away. Suppose a space ship had landed on Terra in a center section of the Canadian northwest, on the steppes of Central Asia, or in the middle of Australia-any thinly populated district. It would have been months, perhaps years, before its arrival became known-especially since Pax forbade travel. There may exist a similar situation here. Our landing may go undiscovered for a long time-if we do share this world.”