E.E. 'Doc' Smith SF Gateway Omnibus: The Skylark of Space, Skylark Three, Skylark of Valeron, Skylark DuQuesne

by E. E. 'Doc' Smith

  He worked deftly and rapidly, and soon was rewarded by a flaring crimson color in his detector when it was located in one certain position in front of one of the meters. Noting the bearing on the great circles, he then moved the Skylark along that exact line, over the reflectors, and out beyond the island, where he allowed the vessel to settle directly downwards.

  ‘Now, folks, if I’ve done this just right we’ll get a red flash directly.’

  As he spoke, the detector again burst into crimson light, and he set the bar into the line and applied a little power, keeping the light at its reddest while the other three looked on in fascinated interest.

  ‘This beam is on something that’s moving, Mart – can’t take my eyes off it for a second or I’ll lose it entirely. See where we’re going, will you?’

  ‘We are about to strike the water,’ replied Crane quietly.

  ‘The water!’ exclaimed Margaret.

  ‘Fair enough – why not?’

  ‘Oh, that’s right – I forgot that the Skylark is as good a submarine as she is an airship.’

  Crane pointed number six visiplate directly into the line of flight and stared into the dark water.

  ‘How deep are we, Mart?’ asked Seaton after a time.

  ‘Only about a hundred feet, and we do not seem to be getting any deeper.’

  ‘That’s good. Afraid this beam might be going to a station on the other side of the planet – through the ground. If so, we’d’ve had to go back and trace another. We can follow it any distance under water, but not through rock. Need a light?’

  ‘Not unless we go deeper.’

  For two hours, Seaton held the detector upon that tight beam of energy, travelling at a hundred miles an hour, the highest speed he could use and still hold the beam.

  ‘I’d like to be up above, watching us. I bet we’re making the water boil behind us,’ remarked Dorothy.

  ‘Yeah, we’re kicking up quite a wake, I guess. It takes plenty of power to drive this unstreamlined shape through so much wetness.’

  ‘Slow down!’ commanded Crane. ‘I see a submarine ahead. I thought it might be a whale at first, but it is a boat and it is what we are aiming for. You are constantly swinging with it, keeping it exactly in line.’

  ‘O.K.’ Seaton reduced the power and swung the visiplate around in front of him, whereupon the detector lamp went out. ‘It’s a relief to follow something I can see, instead of trying to guess which way that beam’s going to wiggle next. Lead on, MacDuff – I’m right on your tail!’

  The Skylark fell in behind the submersible craft, close enough to keep it plainly visible. Finally the stranger stopped and rose to the surface between two rows of submerged pontoons which, row upon row, extended in every direction as far as the telescope could reach.

  Well, Dot, we’re where we’re going, wherever that is.’

  ‘What do you suppose it is? It looks like a floating isle-port, like it told about in that wild-story magazine you read so much.’

  ‘Maybe – but if so they can’t be fish. Let’s go – I want to look it over,’ and water flew in all directions as the Skylark burst out of the ocean and leaped into the air far above what was in truth a floating city.

  Rectangular in shape, it appeared to be about six miles long and four wide. It was roofed with solar generators like those covering the island just visited, but the machines were not spaced quite so closely together, and there were numerous open lagoons. The water around the entire city was covered with wave-motors. From their great height the visitors could see an occasional submarine moving slowly under the city, and frequently small surface craft dashed across the lagoons. As they watched, a seaplane with short, thick wings, curved like those of a gull, rose from one of the lagoons and shot away over the water.

  ‘Quite a place,’ remarked Seaton as he swung a visiplate upon one of the lagoons. ‘Submarines, speedboats, and fast seaplanes. Fish or not, they ain’t so slow. I’m going to grab off one of those folks and see how much they know. Wonder if they’re peaceable or warlike?’

  ‘They look peaceable, but you know the proverb,’ Crane cautioned his impetuous friend.

  ‘Yes, and I’m going to be timid like mice,’ Seaton returned as the Skylark dropped rapidly toward a lagoon near the edge of the island.

  ‘You ought to put that in a gag book, Dick,’ Dorothy chuckled. ‘You forget all about being timid until an hour afterwards.’

  ‘Watch me, Red-Top! If they even point a finger at us I’m going to run a million miles a minute.’

  No hostile demonstration was made as they dropped lower and lower, however, and Seaton, with one hand upon the switch actuating the zone of force, slowly lowered the vessel down past the reflectors and to the surface of the water. Through the visiplate he saw a crowd of people coming toward them – some swimming in the lagoon, some walking along narrow runways. They seemed to be of all sizes and unarmed.

  ‘I believe they’re perfectly peaceable, and just curious, Mart. I’ve already got the repellors on close range – believe I’ll cut them off altogether.’

  ‘How about the ray-screens?’

  ‘All three full out. They don’t interfere with anything solid, though, and won’t hurt anything. They’ll stop any ray attack and this arenak hull will stop anything else we are apt to get here. Watch this board, will you, and I’ll see if I can’t negotiate with them.’

  Seaton opened the door. As he did so, a number of the smaller beings dived headlong into the water, and a submarine rose quietly to the surface less than fifty feet away with a peculiar tubular weapon and a huge beam-projector trained upon the Skylark. Seaton stood motionless, his right hand raised in what he hoped was the universal sign of peace, his left holding at his hip an automatic pistol charged with X-plosive shells – while Crane, at the controls, had the Fenachrone super-gun in line and his hand lay upon the switch whose closing would volatilize the submarine and cut an incandescent path of destruction through the city lengthwise.

  After a moment of inaction a hatch opened and a man stepped out upon the deck of the submarine. The two tried to converse, but with no success. Seaton then brought out the mechanical educator, held it up for the other’s inspection, and waved an invitation to come aboard. Instantly the other dived, and came to the surface immediately below Seaton, who assisted him into the Skylark. Tall and heavy as Seaton was, the stranger was half a head taller and twice as heavy. His thick skin was of the characteristic Osnomian green and his eyes were the usual black, but he had no hair whatever. His shoulders, though broad and enormously strong, were sharply sloping, and his powerful arms were little more than half as long as would have been expected had they belonged to a human being of his size. The hands and feet were very large and very broad, and the fingers and toes were heavily webbed. His high domed forehead appeared even higher because of the total lack of hair, otherwise his features were regular and well-proportioned. He carried himself easily and gracefully, and yet with the dignity of one accustomed to command as he stepped into the control room and saluted gravely the three other Earthbeings. He glanced quickly around the room, and showed unmistakable pleasure as he saw the power plant of the cruiser of space. Languages were soon exchanged and the stranger spoke, in a bass voice vastly deeper than Seaton’s own.

  ‘In the name of our city and planet – I may say in the name of our solar system, for you are very evidently from one other than our green system – I greet you. I would offer you refreshment, as is our custom, but I fear that your chemistry is but ill adapted to our customary fare. If there be aught in which we can be of assistance to you, our resources are at your disposal – before you leave us, I shall wish to ask from you a great gift.’

  ‘Sir, we thank you. We are in search of knowledge concerning forces which we cannot as yet control. From the power systems you employ, and from what I have learned of the composition of your suns and planets, I presume you have none of the metal of power, and it is a quantity of that element that is your greatest ne
ed?’

  ‘Yes. Power is our only lack. We generate all we can with the materials and knowledge at our disposal, but we never have enough. Our development is hindered, our birth rate must be held down to a minimum, new cities cannot be built and new projects cannot be started, all for lack of power. For one gram of that metal I see plated upon that copper cylinder, of whose very existence no scientist upon Dasor has had even an inkling, we would do almost anything. In fact, if all else failed, I would be tempted to attack you, did I not know that our utmost power could not penetrate even your outer screen, and that you could volatilize the entire planet if you so desired.’

  ‘Great Cat!’ In his surprise Seaton lapsed from the formal language he had been employing. ‘Have you figured us all out already, from a standing start?’

  ‘We know electricity, chemistry, physics, and mathematics fairly well. You see, our race is many millions of years older than is yours.’

  ‘You’re the man I’ve been looking for, I guess. We have enough of this metal with us so that we can spare you some as well as not. But before I get it I’ll introduce you. Folks, this is Sacner Carfon, Chief of the Council of the planet Dasor. They saw us all the time, and when we headed for this, the Sixth City, he came over from the capital, or First City, in the flagship of his police fleet, to welcome us or to fight us, as we pleased. Carfon, this is Martin Crane … or say, better than introductions, put on the headsets, everybody, and get really acquainted.’

  Acquaintance made and the apparatus put away, Seaton went to one of the store-rooms and brought out a lump of X, weighing about a hundred pounds.

  ‘There’s enough to build power plants from now on. It would save time if you were to dismiss your submarine. With you to pilot us, we can take you back to the First City a lot faster than your vessel can travel.’

  Carfon took a transmitter from a pouch under his armpit and spoke briefly, then gave Seaton the course. In a few minutes the First City was reached. The Skylark descended rapidly to the surface of a lagoon at one end of the city. Short as had been the time consumed by their journey from the Sixth City, they found a curious and excited crowd awaiting them. The central portion of the lagoon was almost covered by the small surface craft, while the sides, separated from the sidewalks by metal curbs, were full of swimmers. The peculiar Dasorian equivalents of whistles, bells, and gongs were making a deafening uproar, and the crowd was yelling and cheering in much the same fashion as do Earthly crowds upon similar occasions. Seaton stopped the Skylark and took his wife by the shoulder, swinging her around in front of the visiplate.

  ‘Look at that, Dot. Talk about rapid transit! They could give the New York Subway a flying start and beat them hands down!’

  Dorothy looked into the visiplate and gasped. Six metal pipes, one above the other, ran above and parallel to each sidewalk-lane of water. The pipes were full of ocean water, water racing along at fully fifty miles an hour and discharging, each stream a small waterfall, into the lagoon. Each pipe was lighted in the interior, and each was full of people, heads almost touching feet, unconcernedly being borne along, completely immersed in that mad current. As the passenger saw daylight and felt the stream begin to drop, he righted himself, apparently selecting an objective point, and rode the current down into the ocean. A few quick strokes, and he was either at the surface or upon one of the flights of stairs leading up to the platforms. Many of the travellers did not even move as they left the orifice. If they happened to be on their backs they entered the ocean backward and did not bother about righting themselves or about selecting a destination until they were many feet below the surface.

  ‘Good heavens, Dick! They’ll kill themselves or drown!’

  ‘Not these birds. Notice their skins? They’ve got a hide like a walrus, and a terrific layer of subcutaneous fat. Even their heads are protected that way – you could hardly hit one of them hard enough with a baseball bat to hurt him. And as for drowning – they can outswim a fish, and can stay under water more than an hour without coming up for air. Even one of those youngsters can swim the full length of the city without taking a breath.’

  ‘How do you get that velocity of flow, Carfon?’ asked Crane.

  ‘By means of pumps. These channels run all over the city, and the amount of water running in each tube and the number of tubes in use are regulated automatically by the amount of traffic. When any section of tube is empty of people, no water flows through it – thus conserving power. At each intersection there are standpipes and automatic swim-counters that regulate the volume of water and the number of tubes in use. This is ordinarily a quiet pool, as it is in a residence section, and this channel – our channels correspond to your streets, you know – has only six tubes each way. If you will look on the other side of the channel, you will see the intake end of the tubes going downtown.’

  Seaton swung the visiplate around and they saw six rapidly-moving stairways, each crowded with people, leading from the ocean level up to the top of a metal tower. As the passengers reached the top of the flight, they were catapulted head-first into the chamber leading to the tube below.

  ‘Well, that is SOME system for handling people!’ exclaimed Seaton. What’s the capacity of the system?’

  ‘When running full pressure, six tubes will handle five thousand people a minute. It is only very rarely, on such occasions as this, that they are ever loaded to capacity. Some of the channels in the middle of the city have as many as twenty tubes, so that it is always possible to go from one end of the city to the other in less than ten minutes.’

  ‘Don’t they ever jam?’ asked Dorothy curiously. ‘I’ve been lost more than once in the New York Subway, and been in some perfectly frightful jams, too – and they weren’t moving ten thousand people a minute either.’

  ‘No jams ever have occurred. The tubes are perfectly smooth and well-lighted, and all turns and intersections are rounded. The controlling machines allow only so many persons to enter any tube – if more should try to enter than can be carried comfortably, the surplus passengers are slid off down a chute to the swim-ways, or sidewalks, and may either wait a while or swim to the next intersection.’

  ‘That looks like quite a jam down there now.’ Seaton pointed to the receiving pool, which was now one solid mass except for the space kept clear by the six mighty streams of humanity-laden water.

  ‘If the newcomers can’t find room to come to the surface they will swim over to some other pool.’ Carfon shrugged indifferently. ‘My residence is the fifth cubicle on the right side of this channel. Our custom demands that you accept the hospitality of my home, if only for a moment and only for a beaker of distilled water. Any ordinary visitor could be received in my office, but you must enter my home.’

  Seaton steered the Skylark carefully, surrounded as she was by a tightly-packed crowd of swimmers, to the indicated dwelling, and anchored her so that one of the doors was close to a flight of steps leading from the corner of the building down into the water. Carfon stepped out, opened the door of his house, and preceded his guests within. The room was large and square, and built of synthetic, non-corroding metal, as was the entire city. The walls were tastefully decorated with striking geometrical designs in vari-colored metal, and upon the floor was a softly woven metal rug. Three doors leading into other rooms could be seen, and strange pieces of furniture stood here and there. In the center of the floor-space was a circular opening some four feet in diameter, and there, only a few inches below the level of the floor, was the surface of the ocean.

  Carfon introduced his guests to his wife – a feminine replica of himself, although she was not of quite such heroic proportions.

  ‘I don’t suppose that Seven is far away, is he?’ Carfon asked the woman.

  ‘Probably he is outside, near the flying ball. If he has not been touching it ever since it came down, it is only because someone stronger than he pushed him aside. You know how boys are,’ turning to Dorothy with a smile as she spoke. ‘Boy nature is probably universal.�
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  ‘Pardon my curiosity, but why “Seven”?’ asked Dorothy, as she returned the smile.

  ‘He is the two thousand three hundred and forty-seventh Sacner Carfon in direct male line of descent,’ she explained. ‘But perhaps Six has not explained these things to you. Our population must not be allowed to increase, therefore each couple can have only two children. It is customary for the boy to be born first, and is given the name of his father. The girl is younger, and is given her mother’s name.’

  ‘That will now be changed,’ said Carfon feelingly. ‘These visitors have given us the secret power and we shall be able to build new cities and populate Dasor as she should be populated.’

  ‘Really? …’ She checked herself, but a flame leaped to her eyes, and her voice was none too steady as she addressed the visitors. ‘For that we Dasorians thank you more than words can express. Perhaps you strangers do not know what it means to want half a dozen children with every fiber of your being and to be allowed to have only two – we do, all too well … I will call Seven.’

  She pressed a button, and up out of the opening in the middle of the floor there shot a half-grown boy, swimming so rapidly that he scarcely touched the coaming as he came to his feet. He glanced at the four visitors, then ran up to Seaton and Crane.

  ‘Please, sirs, may I ride, just a little short ride, in your vessel before you go away?’

  ‘Seven!’ boomed Carfon sternly, and the exuberant youth subsided.

  ‘Pardon me, sirs, but I was so excited …’

  ‘All right, son, no harm done at all. You bet you’ll have a ride in the Skylark if your parents will let you.’ He turned to Carfon. ‘I’m not so far beyond that stage myself that I’m not in sympathy with him. Neither are you, unless I’m badly mistaken.’

  ‘I am very glad that you feel as you do. He would be delighted to accompany us down to the office, and it will be something to remember all the rest of his life.’

  ‘You have a little girl, too?’ Dorothy asked the woman.