“Theory is theory and fact is fact,” Dick said.
“And it’s an axiom of science that seldom the twain shall met,” Jim added. “Let’s get that other field microscope set up and find out how widespread the population is around here. Who knows? We might find a city, complete with microbe-sized model T’s roaming the coral highways.”
“Too bad all humans aren’t their size,” Dick said, opening a varnished plywood case and bringing out a duplicate of the instrument already sitting on the coral. “Then the critical mass for an atom bomb would be, relatively, a few billion tons.”
“On the other hand,” Jim said, watching Dick set up the field microscope, “the disruption of just one atom would be a few billion times more dangerous to us than it is now.”
Dick merely grunted in answer. He worked swiftly until he had the instrument placed and adjusted, then looked through it.
“Nothing here but the coral bugs,” he said finally.
“Then let’s not waste time,” Jim said. “Let’s get the camera hooked on to this instrument and start taking pictures. High-speed ones so that we can slow them down a bit and get the movements a little more our norm. Not so fast and jerky.”
“Okay, Jim,” Dick said. “We’d better be more careful than any man ever was before in all history. One slip and we might lose it.”
It was half, an hour before the movie camera was connected to the field microscope. The prism-filtered light-beam from the small lamp was turned to full brightness as the film clicked swiftly in its light-proof receptacle, Ten minutes and the roll of film had been run through.
“Think we dare leave them long enough to develop and run this film on the screen?” Jim asked.
“I don’t know,” Dick said slowly. “Still, tide won’t be high for several hours yet. We can leave everything the way it is for now. Before high tide we’d better figure some way of protecting this spot, though.”
“THE PICTURE is perfect,” Jim said. “Look at that. The coloring is almost too realistic. I never realized before that a screen could show translucence that way.”
“Shut up,” Dick said. “I want to concentrate on it. This is better than the direct stuff. Larger, and slowed down quite a bit too, though still way too fast.”
“Shut up yourself,” Jim said, chuckling.
Both men became silent, watching the unfoldment of the varied, activities on the large screen. Heads were definitely heads instead of dots. Shoulders were two inches across. The terrain was coral, honeycombed with small holes.
The girl with the baby was not in evidence, but there were an estimated couple of hundred people. Even as they watched a figure became prone while others gathered around it. In five minutes of film she had given birth to a baby and risen, to walk out of the picture carrying the child in her arms.
But neither man noticed this particularly. Their attention was concentrated on another phase of behavior of these miniature people. They watched figure after figure dart from one coral hole to another, pause briefly at each, and then stoop down and apparently bring a human baby out of one of the holes, then dart away with it in a common direction off the screen.
“What do you make of that?” Jim asked.
“I’d hate to say what I think,” Dick said. “It’s insane.”
“Maybe some of the women are in those coral, pockets,” Jim suggested. “Maybe the ones outside can’t find a vacant one to go into.”
“Maybe,” Dick said. “But look in the upper right-hand corner of the screen. There’s a perfect view of the inside, of one those coral pockets, and that isn’t a human being in there.”
“It isn’t the usual type of coral bug either,” Jim said. “But watch. Something’s happening.”
They watched as the creature gave birth to a human baby. There was no one near to rescue it. It gasped for a moment, flailing its arms feebly, then became still. In another few seconds its parent was attacking it. Another few seconds and it was gone. One of the humans came to the hole and obscured the scene briefly, then went on to another, unaware of the silent drama that had just been completed.
“God!” Jim muttered. “Has nature gone insane?”
“Maybe it has,” Dick said slowly. “Or maybe it’s just in the process of recovering its sanity after a few billions of years of madness. That’s really beside the point, though. We’ve got a job ahead of us.”
“What do you have in mind?” Jim asked.
“We’ve got to cut that piece of coral out,” Dick said, “or at least build up a protective shelter for it. Then we’ve got to figure out some system of communication with them.”
“Communication?” Jim exclaimed. “How?”
“Simple enough in theory,” Dick said. “A movie projector that reduces an image to their size and speeds it up to their speed. And also a sound projecting system that multiplies frequencies the right number of times so that it comes within, their hearing range.”
“Then we’d better get in some Navy sound technicians,” Jim said. “And how about the other direction? Picking up sounds they make and slowing them down to our audio range. For direct view all we need to do is get field microscopes with about double the power of the ones we have.”
“I don’t know whether we should let this thing out yet,” Dick said thoughtfully. “Maybe you don’t realize what we have. We have a race of human beings who live far faster than we, but probably can think and develop faster too. We could teach them all the human race knows. A few days of our time would be a few generations of their time. Think of it . . . we could give them a problem to solve, and in a day they would have worked on it the equivalent of years of our time!”
“Sounds useful,” Jim mused.
“Yeah,” Dick grunted. “But what I’m wondering—how did it happen? Sure, there are plenty of new mutations here at Bikini. More all the time. But a jump from coral bugs to humans is too much, unless—”
“Yes,” Jim said softly. “Unless the human gene pattern was dormant in the coral bug’s. That would mean—”
“It would mean that our conception of evolution is all wrong,” Dick interrupted. “It would mean that the ancestor of the coral bug was human, and that the nuclear substances contaminating this area brought out throwbacks to the original strain.”
“I’m glad you said it,” Jim said. “It’s insane, and its obvious implication is even more insane.”
“I know it,” Dick said. “But dammit, all life can’t have evolved from the human. That’s impossible.”
“Is it?” Jim asked. “Is it?”
“We’d better notify the Navy,” Dick said uncomfortably. “I don’t want to take the responsibility for a whole race of people on my shoulders.”
RAL PUT his arm protectively around Lahl’s shoulder. Their child, longer limbed and more graceful in carriage than his parents, crouched nearby. On either side and in back of them others huddled together. And all eyes were fixed on the ancient figure of Grul, standing apart and facing them, his long beard wagging as he spoke.
“I tell you,” he shouted, “this thing is a punishment against us for what you have done. Look at you. Look at me, who have not lain with a woman. I, even I, bear the strain. Even my skin is darkened. And the womb of creation, the Vairn, are dying in their pools, while the pools dry up, leaving only the bleached bones of their shell structure. We must go from this place before we too die.”
“He’s right,” a rumble of voices agreed. “We must leave this place.”
“But where will we go?” a voice shouted.
The crowd became quiet, waiting for Grul to speak again. Ral knew from his talks with Grul that the old man was a genuis at theorizing from what he saw. But he had been right so many times that there were many who insisted Grul couldn’t have figured everything put by himself.
They pointed out the miracle of the eye and the vision in the sky that came with the star that had appeared so miraculously when Gar, the first manchild born of woman, had lain, in his mother’s arms.
That star still hovered in the sky, and the mirage was still there, though the eye was gone. It had been gone for many many work periods and rest periods. But the star remained, its rays slowly searing into the rock, drying out the pools, killing off the Vairn.
“Where will we go?” the voice in the crowd demanded again.
“I don’t know,” Grul said. “All I know is that we must start out. If you will all follow I will lead the way, and hope that it’s the right way.”
“Let’s go then!” several voices shouted. “We no longer need the Vairn anyway. Our women bear our children now.”
“Then follow me!” Grul shouted, taken up with zeal and eager to get started.
He turned away from the crowd and started walking. The crowd hesitated. Then in a concerted movement they followed him, slowly stretching out into a line.
Man walked beside woman, and children followed their parents closely, afraid to venture far from them.
Ral took Lahl’s hand and went along, with their son Gar skipping along beside them.
“I hope Grul knows what he’s doing,” Ral muttered so that only Lahl could hear.
“I doubt it,” Lahl said. “He’s just a man, you know, and all men like to pretend they know what they’re doing when they don’t.” She smiled impudently, her eyes darting sideways at Ral’s expression of protest. “But,” she added hastily, “he will probably be lucky in his guess—as most men usually are.”
Ral’s protest died on his lips. He looked at Lahl and grinned. Then both of them became silent, conserving their strength for the long journey ahead of them.
Three rest periods later the star in the sky was far behind. Its rays had been concentrated in a. small area, and though the star could still be seen its effect was gone.
Once again the stone was filled with irridescence and translucent fires of white and pink and red. Once again the Vairn lay idly in their pools. But inspection showed that none of them gave birth to human babies. And after a while they entered an area where the Vairn were replaced by other creatures that seemed to be similar to the Vairn in some ways, but much different in others.
For forty work periods and forty rest periods the journey continued, until at last Grul came to a halt at the edge of a precipice. The others came up with him. Stretching below and to a far cliff was a land of incredible beauty. At their feet began a way by which they could safely descend from the plateau where they stood.
“See!” Grul exclaimed triumphantly. “I came to the very spot where we can go down. Look to the right and the left. Is there another such spot? No!”
“Lucky,” Lahl murmured to Ral, who grinned but made no reply.
His bearded head held cockily erect, Grul boldly began the descent. The others followed.
Abruptly they came to a new kind of land. It was no longer stone, but made of intricately held together honeycombs of a new substance.
Grul didn’t hesitate. In his inner thoughts he had become convinced that some greater power was directing him. He leaped onto the new land and began climbing. Higher and higher, his followers staying close behind him as though fearing that without him they would be lost.
Not until the very last of them had climbed high onto the new land did the flood come that lifted them and bore them away, floating into the vastness of the ocean.
“DAMN!” DICK muttered. “We forgot to shut off the light. I hope it didn’t cook our little people.”
He leaped out of the boat and ran to the field, microscope. A few seconds later he groaned loudly.
He stepped back, a bleak expression on his face. The navy officer took his place at the microscope and stared into it for a long time.
“Well,” he said when he straightened up, “I must say you did a good job of it. Now there’s nothing but the film to prove they existed. I suppose they all died from exposure to the light?”
“Maybe,” Dick said. “Or maybe they moved away from it. We’ll have to look for them. They can’t have gone far.”
A sailor kicked loose a piece of coral and threw it at a stick floating away in the foamy water.
“Stop that!” Dick snarled. “And be careful where you walk. All of you. There’re people around here someplace. People too small for you to even see with the naked eye.”
“You have a film to prove it,” the navy officer said, “but if I were you I’d go easy on broadcasting it until you find them again.”
Dick stared at the officer, then turned away. He bent down over the field microscope and slowly moved it, inch by inch, searching . . . .
THE NAVAL officer took the steps of the ladder two at a time, leaping over the rail onto the deck of the ship. White-faced, he hurried to the bridge and into the officers’ quarters.
“Any luck yet?” It was one of several civilian-dressed men who asked.
In answer the officer took a small object from his pocket. It was wrapped in oiled cloth. With shaking fingers he unwrapped it, rolling the object out.
There was a gasp of horror and surprise as the civilians drew closer to get a better look at it.
“We found it in a small pool,” the officer said.
It was the body of a newborn babe. Dead. It was three inches long.
“But I thought you said they were microscopic in size!” one of the civilians exclaimed. “This—this is neither large enough for a normal-sized baby, nor small enough to be microscopic.”
“I know,” the officer said.
“Then,” the civilian said, “it must have come from some other—”
There was a long silence.
“Well,” one of the civilians said sharply. “This is all the evidence we need. There’s only one thing to do—out of mercy. We must bomb the whole thing out of existence. It doesn’t make sense anyway, and God knows there’s, little enough sense for man to cling to in this world.”
“Clear the reef,” one of the civilians said. “Get the ship safely away. Then bomb the hell out of it. We don’t want one square inch of coral sticking out of the water around here.”
A Naval officer who had been seated to one side stood up and left the room. One by one the civilians turned their eyes away from the pathetic thing lying so inert on the metal table.
The officer who had brought the dead infant returned to the launch. Shortly it was cutting, the waves toward the low lying reef. An hour, later it returned. Grim and silent figures climbed the ladder.
The ship began to move. It picked up speed, leaving the reef, which sank lower and lower into the water until it was over the horizon.
Overhead, planes sped toward the reef. They swept down toward it and then climbed skyward, while puffs of smoke exploded and drifted up after them.
Dick and Jim leaned morosely against the rail at the stern of the ship.
“That’s that,” Dick said finally. “I guess it was for the best, though. This would be a hell of a world for such little people. But that girl—she was the most beautiful creature I could ever hope to see . . . .”
“Hey!” Jim said, pointing. “There’s a twig floating over there. Just like Noah’s Ark. Bet it’ll float into the harbor of one of these islands someplace in a few weeks.”
“There’s another,” Dick said. “Too bad our little friends aren’t on one of them, but—no such luck, I’m afraid.”
“Probably not,” Jim agreed.
The twig he had first spied caught in the wake of the ship and dipped pertly, as though waving a farewell.
“I wish I had nerve enough to ask the skipper to stop the boat and let us look at that twig under the field microscope,” Dick said suddenly. “I’ve got a hunch.”
“Forget it, Dick,” Jim said gruffly.
“Okay,” he said. He sighed deeply. “Okay.”
Outlaw in the Sky
THE HALF-TRACK train had spent an entire day crossing the Marsport River, and now that day was over and the train was camped in an area of red grassland on the westward side.
It was a large train and i
ts population ran the gamut from wealth to poverty. There were the great durium-steel atom-powers filled with the fine things treasured by genteel women. There were the smaller gas-durium jobs, battered and dented. In these rode the people whose only possessions of value were their dreams of what lay beyond the swelling Martian hills. There were even the primitive carts drawn by the sloe-eyed Martian goffs, and gorged with the pitiful possessions of those who wore tattered clothing but who also had the dreams—and the will to travel a thousand miles over red plains and barren hills to make the dreams in their hearts come true. They had the grimmest faces and the hungriest eyes of all.
There were the unattached gentry—the scouts in the tight purple clothing of their trade, whose eyes were eternally narrowed against the sun and the wind. They were already a part of this new planet. It was an old planet to them and their competence was clearly apparent in every move they made. There were the gamblers and they were also self-sufficient and competent, but in a different way.
And there were others.
This train was not a train but a moving community. It could take root on any spot, at any time and become a town overnight with all the good and evil that goes into the making of a town.
The good women and the bad women—the liquor for men and the milk for children—the people who filled churches and the people who filled the drinking halls—those who dreamed and worked and those who plotted and schemed.
All this was here—even now—in this traveling city, moving out from Marsport to the fertile plains of the planet.
The boy’s name was Cory Balleau. He was eleven and he was a part of the rag-tag and the bob-tail of the train. The wheezing, gas-driven truck with the broken tread-links belonged to his uncle—John Balleau. The thin-faced woman who rode on the front seat of the truck with the look of fever on her brow was his mother. Faith Balleau.
There was breeding and background in every line of the woman’s body. There was the right kind of pride in her bearing, that showed even brighter than the fever that boiled up from the hot marsplague eating at her lungs.
The 47th Golden Age of Science Fiction Page 25