He Who Shrank: A Collection of Short Fiction

by Henry Hasse

  "Ordinarily I'd say you were right," Brownell nodded. "But look! There it is!"

  Barely discernible on the screen, they saw a vague pinpoint of light. Brownell glanced at the proximity indicator and gasped.

  "Over three million miles—it can't be! Not the way it's pulling us now. Unless," he added thoughtfully, "it has a gravity grab equal to that of Jupiter at half the distance! Good Lord!" He tested instruments, gave experimental side thrusts with the Tuner, but they came back irresistably into the pull of the planet ahead.

  Hour after hour they came nearer. The planet resolved into a dark disc with a peculiar surrounding halo.

  "I don't like it," Janus reflected the thoughts of them all. "That light—where does it come from? Not the Sun! The Sun doesn't even touch Pluto!"

  "Maybe it has a Sun of its own," ventured Kaarj. "On the other side."

  "If it does, the sun moves right along with it in it's orbit!"

  "You can tell from here that the planet has no axial rotation," Brownell announced. He looked a little worried. "This gravity drag is getting worse. We're accelerating. Better get into your harness." He set the example, and the men followed. "I think I can control it with the Tuner in reverse, but it pays to be safe. You never can tell, out here; these are strange conditions."

  The planet was looming fast. The Professor's hand on the deceleration lever revealed the strain he was under. Below them now they glimpsed vast dark plains, and as they came nearer, huge stretches of forest. Mountains loomed. Far ahead was faint light, a few miles of "twilight strip" much as that on the planet Mercury.

  The Professor was heading for this strip but Mark didn't think they'd make it. They were losing altitude with sickening speed. Mark had a final vision of the little Professor tugging desperately on the deceleration lever, of huge greenish-gray plants coming up beneath them.

  Then a rending crash, a confusion of flying legs and arms. Just before Mark blanked out he knew their ship was still ploughing forward.

  III

  He came back to consciousness with a feeling of intolerable weight pressing him down. It was his own weight, he discovered as he tried lifting his head to look around. It was a terrific strain and he let his head fall back.

  None of the men were seriously injured. The bulging harness had saved them. They called out to each other, but couldn't move except to roll their heads from side to side.

  "Professor, did you say a gravity equal to that of Jupiter?" Dethman called out.

  "That, or more. And yet this planet has a diameter of scarcely a few hundred miles! Strange!"

  "Strange, he says," came from Driscoll. "What do we do now, just lay here for the rest of our lives?"

  "Let's see you do anything else," Kaarj said drolly.

  "Not me," Janus spoke. "You think I'll let this pee-wee world get me down? If I can only get to that Tuner control."

  "I'm afraid this is one kind of gravity it won't counteract," Brownell admitted ruefully. "This world must be condensed as tightly as a white dwarf star! A cubic inch of matter weighing hundreds of pounds!"

  Mark twisted his head around, saw Janus' huge frame struggling to move. He was a powerfully-built man, he'd be the one to do it if anyone did. Slowly, minutes at a time, he managed to drag one leg under him and then the other. He brought his hands into position. Sweat broke on his brow as he rolled himself over on all fours. Then with a terrific effort he hoisted himself erect!

  He stood there, a straddle-legged, red-bearded giant. But only for a second. His legs buckled. He managed to hurl himself toward the starboard port, as he slid downward.

  "At least I can see out now," he gasped. "We just did reach the twilight strip. There's a whole forest of great big green things, thirty feet high. Sort of like cactus, flat and spiny."

  "They must have helped break our fall!"

  "You said it! I can see a strip for over a mile, where we mowed 'em down. Hey! Look! For the love of—" Janus' voice dwindled off in amazement.

  "Damn it, man, how can we look? What is it? What's out there?"

  "People! Dozens of 'em! They're coming out of the forest. Oh—oh, they've spotted us. But they're not coming over. They just stand there jabbering and pointing."

  "People on this world," Brownell muttered his amazement. "What are they like, Janus? Describe them!"

  "They look kind of savage to me. Squat and furry, but they stand erect. Their legs are thick and heavy like an elephant's."

  "Yes, that would be natural on this world. The terrific gravity."

  "Gravity doesn't seem to bother them," Janus went on. "Let's see, now. Yes, in all other ways they seem to be low-evolutionary humans, except ... good Lord!"

  "Except what? Damn it, Janus, go on!"

  "They have knobs!"

  "What?"

  "Knobs! Growing right out of their foreheads. And they're lit up—the knobs, I mean. Sort of a soft white light."

  "Another logical development of nature," said the Professor. "They live on the dark side, so their bodies manufacture the necessary light. Are they armed?"

  "They are. Just crude spears and clubs, though, so I guess we're safe enough in here. Oh, oh, here they come. I think they see me!"

  Twisting his head around, Mark could barely see a corner of the window where Janus lay. In the twilight gray beyond he glimpsed the horde of barbarians rushing at the ship. It seemed fantastic that they could move in such gravity, fantastic that any creature could walk.

  One of them hurled a spear with deadly accuracy. It struck the window and glanced away. Others crowded around, pounding at the glass with clubs, clamoring to get at Janus who lay just beyond.

  "Professor," Janus said wryly, "this isn't very pleasant. Are you sure that glass will hold?"

  "Don't worry. It will take more than their pounding to crack four inches of crystyte."

  "Hope you're right." A moment later Janus exclaimed, "Hey, some of these babies have electric rifles! Good Lord, I see—one, two, three—at least half a dozen of 'em! Wait a minute, though—they're only using them as clubs. The metal parts are corroded. Why, those are the old-type electric rifles popular on Earth two hundred years ago!"

  "You must be having delusions," came from Ferris.

  "No, I'm not. I've seen that type of rifle in the museums. Now how do you suppose they got 'way out here?"

  For a few minutes there was silence, broken only by a faint ringing sound as the clubs beat against the thick crystyte. Then Janus announced:

  "Here come more of 'em out of the forest. They're bringing up the reserves. Hey, this might be serious! They have a new kind of weapon." He peered for a moment into the grayness. "It's a huge thing, seems to be a sort of combination catapult and cross-bow. I don't like the looks of it."

  A minute later the first shot came. It struck the spaceship very close to the window. There was a muffled explosion, and a flashing blue flame.

  "By all that's holy—explosives! Powerful stuff, too. These babies aren't as barbarian as they look!"

  "We've got to get away from here some way." Brownell was really worried now. "Janus, do you think you could make it to the controls? Perhaps by dragging yourself—"

  "I'm sure gonna try it! Wait a minute, though—they're not going to bother us any more. They're scared!"

  "Scared of what?"

  "Damned if I know. They're staring off to the right, jabbering and pointing. Hah! There they go, they're running away!"

  Driscoll said, "What did you do, Janus, make a face at 'em? That red beard of yours is enough to scare anybody!"

  "Something's coming." Janus was straining his neck now, his face flat against the glass. "I think I can make it out ... yes ... holy blazing comets! What kind of a world is this? Get away from there, you! Hey—cut that out!"

  Janus' voice had risen to an excited pitch. "Get set, men—I think we're leaving here!" The ship gave a sudden lurch and Janus rolled backward. His head hit the floor hard—enough to stun him a li
ttle.

  And now their ship was moving! Not upward. It seemed to be dragging forward over rough terrain. In this tremendous gravity, every slightest jolt bruised them horribly. They could only lie there and take it. After five minutes of this their muscles seemed pounded to a pulp, despite the inflated suits still encasing them.

  Then as suddenly as it had begun, the movement stopped. There was ominous quiet.

  Mark, on the brink of unconsciousness, thought he was dreaming when he saw Professor Brownell leap to his feet! Now the other men were stirring. They rose dazedly. Gravity was normal!

  They crowded excitedly around the windows. Outside was bright daylight, no longer the twilight haze. The barbarian horde wasn't to be seen, nor was—that other. Whatever it was Janus had glimpsed.

  Janus groaned a little and sat up, rubbing his head. They questioned him eagerly.

  "Maybe I didn't see it," he muttered. "You wouldn't believe me anyway. Gravity's normal, so let's get out of here."

  And when they pressed their questions, he only shook his head stubbornly.

  Heedless of their aching muscles, they zipped out of the bulging suits. Mark's hand went instantly to an inside pocket near his heart, where he'd placed his secret flat box with the lenses. He was relieved to find that it, at least, was undamaged.

  Janus was breaking out the weapons. He handed each of them an atomic rifle and neutro pistol. Brownell had taken a sample of the atmosphere and announced it was fit for them. They debarked onto a plain where lush yellow grass sprang waist high.

  "Strange," Brownell was muttering. He stared back the way they had come. Only a few yards behind them was the twilight zone! It was sharply defined, gray and misty, reaching sheerly up. Yet they stood in bluish daylight which extended ahead of them to the sharp, downward curve of the horizon.

  Brownell walked slowly back to the twilight zone, gingerly testing the gravity. He entered the zone—and fell flat to the ground! Janus leaped to him, dragged him back.

  "Did you ever see such a thing?" Brownell exclaimed as he rose. "Not only is there a sharp division of light and dark, but half the planet is terrifically heavy while the other half is normal. It defies all laws as we have known them."

  Janus was peering intently into that grayness—toward the edge of the forest a hundred yards away. Suddenly he gripped the Professor's arm. His voice came a little hysterically.

  "I wasn't dreaming, then. I see it! There it is—the thing that grabbed our ship! Don't move, you men, because I swear—it's watching us!"

  Gradually they made it out, as they stared in the direction of Janus' gaze. It was a huge bulking shape that towered above the tallest trees. A roughly round, metallic body that rested on four jointed metal legs. Metal arms, too, dangled at its side.

  "A robot!" came in a whisper from Dethman's lips. "A metal robot, but good Lord—look at the size of it!"

  They were looking. Fifty feet above the ground they could make out its head, semi-spherical—and there were two eyes glowing with a greenish light, eyes that must have been large as dinner plates! It stood quite motionless in the gloom near the forest, watching them.

  "That's the thing that towed us here?" Brownell whispered.

  "Yes! I just got a bare glimpse of it."

  "Must be friendly, then. But I wouldn't want to shake hands with it! The thing does seem to be watching us, doesn't it?"

  "I'll fix it!" Ferris suddenly brought his rifle up, took aim at the glowing eyes.

  Janus whirled, knocked the rifle aside. "You fool! That's an intelligent entity, I tell you! Want to get us killed?"

  As though it had seen and comprehended the action, the robot's eyes blinked once or twice. It was eerie. Then it raised one of its arms and seemed to gesture—not at them, but beyond them. With that, it turned and stalked away, crashing through the forest.

  "I get it," Mark said thoughtfully. "It was warning us to stay on our side of the fence!"

  "And that's just what we will do. It's the only place where we can stand up, much less move about."

  They walked back to the prow of the ship. "Where does this daylight come from?" Brownell was still puzzled. "There's no sun. Seems to me this gravity has something to do with it, too. Say! Do you suppose this light—"

  He never finished, for at that moment they heard a shout ahead of them, and saw a group of men approaching. They were tall and straight, clean shaven, and dressed in trousers and tunics of rough texture but undoubtedly of Earth pattern—the pattern which had been popular hundreds of years ago! They carried weapons too, the old-type electric rifles which were so devastating at close range but not very effective at longer distances.

  They came warily at first, but smiled when they saw the newcomers were not going to cause trouble.

  "Greetings!" their leader said in perfect English. "You're from Earth? We thought we saw your ship crash, and came over to investigate."

  Janus stepped forward and introduced himself, shook hands.

  "My name is Donli," the other said. He pronounced it that way, crisply, running the syllables together. Mark suddenly wondered if this could be a contraction of "Donnolly".

  Donli and his men were speechless for a moment, staring in turn at the spaceship, the new-type weapons, and Ral Kaarj.

  "You have never seen a Martian before?" Kaarj grinned at them in a friendly manner.

  "Pardon our staring," Donli replied. "We have never seen a Martian, nor such a spaceship as this, nor any other world. We have waited long for this! Long!"

  "You've seen no other world. But you are Earthmen."

  "We have been here always."

  "I begin to understand," Brownell said. "There are others of you here? Where do you stay?"

  "Our city is only fifty miles from here. We shall be happy if you accompany us there. We have good roads, and surface cars. Our leader, Mari, will explain everything to you." Donli paused, glancing nervously into the twilight strip. "You should be of great help to us against the Perlacs, with your new weapons."

  "Perlacs? Are those the furry creatures with the lights on their heads?"

  "Yes. We call them that because Perlac is the name they give to the world. They have warred on us for generations. We number a mere five hundred, and they are thousands." Donli looked worried. "And now that the robots are active again, we are in even more danger."

  "We saw one of those metal giants," Janus exclaimed, "just a few minutes ago!"

  "Yes, we saw it too. We came up just as it was stalking away. It's the first we've ever seen, but we have heard much about them; the stories have been handed down. There is supposed to be a great temple on the dark side, where the robots are housed."

  "More of them?" Mark exclaimed. "I hope they stay over there, then!"

  Donli shook his head. "This I know: if the robots are roaming again, as they did many years ago, none of us will be safe."

  "Then let us go to your city," Brownell put in. "We should be able to lift gravs now, if the Tuner hasn't been damaged."

  It hadn't been. In a few minutes they were winging low across the plains to the horizon.

  The city bore the unusual name of "Frell", and lay semi-circularly at the foot of a sharply rising hill. People were seen, men and women alike, working in the surrounding fields.

  Donli led them through the main street. The buildings were of a dark substance that might have been earth compressed to concrete hardness. They entered the most imposing of these buildings, and thence to a huge room which was almost the size of a theater on Earth.

  "Make yourselves at ease," Donli said, "while I summon Mari. She will probably be at the laboratories now."

  "Mari," Driscoll said, when Donli had gone. "So their leader is a woman! And they have laboratories!"

  They gazed about them. The curious daylight came through windows of glass or similar material. There were chairs and tables of finely-wrought metal. Along one wall were bookcases filled with charts and uniquely-bound volumes.
There were other volumes too, which seemed vaguely familiar.

  Brownell walked over there.

  "Look at this! A whole case full of books from Earth—scientific, technical books, all of them!" He read a few of the titles on the faded bindings. "These were all popular hundreds of years ago. And these others," he waved, "are probably the entire recorded history of these people. I'd give anything to look into them." He didn't touch the volumes, but remained thoughtful.

  Mark too was thoughtful. "Frell," he mused. "A strange name for this city. Seems as though it ought to mean something, but I can't quite place it."

  Donli returned soon, accompanied by Mari. She was tall, lithesome, her features classical and still beautiful despite smudges of sweat and grime from the laboratory. Her golden hair was braided into a halo which gave a queenly appearance, and her eyes were bluer than the strange daylight of this world. Skirt and tight-fitting bodice were of rough texture but dyed a rich golden color.

  Involuntarily the men gasped, but Mari did not mind that or their stares. She seated herself and bade them be seated opposite her. Then she leaned forward, searching their faces. Not until then did they notice that her eyes were cold, suspicious.

  "You have come from Earth, of course. And Donli tells me this strange one is Martian. Who is leader among you?"

  "Why, I suppose I am," Janus said. "Either me or Professor Brownell, here."

  "Professor?" Her mind seemed to grope for the meaning. "Ah! That word means a man of scientific learning, does it not?"

  "In this case, yes," he answered.

  Brownell spoke softly. "Madam, we come in peace. We want to be friends and we want to help you, if we may. You need have no suspicion of us."

  "No suspicion? You come from the dark side! From the Perlacs!" She spat the last word venomously.

  Donli, standing there, seemed troubled. He said:

  "We only found them near the twilight zone. They were most friendly in manner and speech! They seem—"

  Man waved a hand, and he was silent. She said: