“What’s that in the west?” he exclaimed.
Before his question could be answered an arched tip appeared over the western circle of earth, grew in size and became a flaming ball of fire. Yet around it was no glow of blue heaven. There was a ribbon of radiance, then black sky. And the ball of fire speedily welled to white, eye-blistering heat.
The sun was rising in the west!
Dorothy Wagner was at his side, watching the spectacle in silence.
Higher and higher came the flaming ball. The earth showed as an arc now, and on the side nearest the sun was a growing ribbon of light.
Click tore his gaze away, turned to her.
“How come?” he asked.
“The sun,” she exclaimed. “It seems to be rising in the west because we’re ascending above the rim of the world. You can see the motion of the earth below us. Look at that range of mountains. See them glittering in the sun. And the earth seems to be slowly revolving. That’s because we’re overcoming some of the momentum with which we were thrown to one side by the envelope of air and the centrifugal force.”
Click could see the earth, showing now as a suggestion of a great ball, outlined against a black void, slowly turning.
“But why is the sky black?”
“The air acts as a light diffuser. If it wasn’t for our atmosphere, the sun would be a ball of fire in a black sky. There would be dazzling light on one side of an object set in its rays, and intense blackness on the other side. You get something of that same effect on the high mountains where the atmosphere is more rare. Ever notice how much blacker the shadows seem, how much more dazzling the light?”
Click nodded. It was just occurring to him that there were a good many physical phenomena he had been taking for granted.
“What’s the strip of sunlight to the west?”
“That’s late afternoon on the Pacific Coast. The sun is just setting there. Later on we’ll be able to see the Pacific Ocean. Then the motion of the earth in its revolution will become more apparent as we get farther away and gradually overcome the force of our outthrust from the rim of the wheel. You see our anti-gravitational force is acting as a centrifugal force resistant.”
“How fast are we going?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“What keeps us from being cold now that we’ve passed the atmosphere?” asked Click.
“You’ve seen a thermos bottle?” she countered. “Well, this is made on the same principle; and remember we are surrounded by a vacuum.”
Sighing, Click relaxed himself to a contemplation of seeing the earth through the eyes of a solar wanderer. He was out in the solar system, tickling the edges of the universe, and something of the terrific, mind-paralyzing nature of infinity was beginning to permeate his brain.
Below him the earth showed as a mighty sphere. The sun glowed as a white-hot ball of fire against a perfectly black sky, raised some twenty degrees from the arc of the earth’s crust.
The motion of the earth was now readily apparent. It swung in a long sweep of increasing speed. The Sierra Nevada Range was now being swept into the twilight zone. The glittering sweep of Pacific Ocean showed as a long expanse. The shore line of Lower California and Mexico was sharply marked. To the north, where Oregon and Washington merged into the coast line, there were fogs which reflected the dazzling light of the sun in eye-bewildering brilliance.
It was sunset in California. Deserts, mountains, orange groves, plateaus, fertile river valleys were all being swept into the curtain of dusk. Over to the east was midnight. Yet the moon illuminated the earth with enough light to make certain features of the crust apparent.
The Atlantic coast line showed as a dim glow. Click fancied he could detect a difference in the illumination that must represent the big cities of the seaboard, New York and vicinity. But he was not certain that that which he mistook for brilliance of illumination was not really caused by a local fog.
Professor Wagner switched on the light, beamed about him.
“My children, this is the happiest moment of my life.”
Badger croaked hoarsely.
“Well, make the most of it, because it’s about the last of your life. I could have taken this invention and made something out of it. We’d have been millionaires. But you had to go and start this crazy expedition. Now your secret will perish with you.”
The professor shrugged his shoulders.
“That may be. But I have had the thrill of going where no mortal has ever ventured before. Oxygen tanks working perfectly. Compressed air releasing smoothly. Temperature constant, speed accelerating. Wonderful! Who could wish for any greater triumph to crown a life of hard work?”
Click interpolated a comment.
“But can we get back?”
The professor waved his hands, palms outward.
“Back! Who wants to get back? It will take us a lifetime to explore the universe, and then we’ll only have touched one or two highlights.”
Badger groaned.
“Oh, Lord, he’s crazy as a bedbug. Mister, you and I are trapped. Our only hope is to overpower him and take the machine back.”
Professor Wagner whipped a revolver from his belt, using his unwounded arm with swift grace.
“Badger, you’ve murdered, you’ve robbed, you’ve stopped at nothing to steal the secret I’ve worked out. Now I warn you, if I catch you so much as lifting a finger to interfere, I shall shoot you as I would a dog!”
Cowed, Badger lapsed into surly, menacing silence. Click turned away, repressing a momentary shudder of apprehension. He looked out of the floor window.
The shell had developed terrific speed, with no atmosphere to retard it. And it was an awesome spectacle. The globe still subtended a great arc, but it showed as a rotating ball, shadowed with seas, glittering with continents. Majestic mountain ranges billowed in reflecting clouds, or raising glittering snowcapped mountains.
Click looked upward.
The moon was getting larger. Their constant acceleration had piled up a most terrific momentum.
“What time is it?” he asked.
Professor Wagner laughed, flipped a hand toward the rotating globe below.
“Time? My boy, there is no time! Time is merely an arbitrary division of the period of rotation of that ball below you. You are now in the depths of infinity. There is no clock that can measure infinity. The birth of universes are as but the ticking of the clock of infinity. And that clock measures a something that is beyond measure. We are accustomed to think of eternity as something vague and intangible that comes into existence after our individual deaths. You are in eternity now. It is all about you. You are a part of eternity. Time indeed! There is no time.”
Professor Wagner took out pencil and paper, did some rapid calculating. Then he approached the lever.
“It’s about time we were building up some side speed. We’re going to have to keep clear of the moon. If we get too close to it we’d either be stalled or flipped off in space like a comet. Let’s see. That lever gives us a side speed of east to west. That should be away from the moon, toward the inferior planets. Now Venus is about twenty-two million miles away in round figures. I believe this is the proper adjustment. I’m going into the inner room with my daughter. We’ll do the navigating from there. You two better get some sleep.
“Look at the earth. See that brilliance it’s throwing off? That’s earthlight, just as we call the moon’s reflected light moonlight. Rather weird, eh? Badger, I’m going to leave you tied up. Kendall, I’m trusting you. Get some sleep, both of you.”
The inner door slammed.
“Good night—Click,” called the girl’s voice.
Badger grunted.
“Crazy as a loon, him and the girl both. Mister, you and I have got to get control of this thing and take it back.”
Kendall laughed.
“Don’t count on me for any treachery. A ship can have but one skipper. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way; and I’m n
ot going to turn you loose. So shut up and get some sleep.”
And, rolling on his side, Click Kendall stretched his length on the floor of the weird craft and went to sleep with the light of a half full earth in his eyes.
CHAPTER 6
A New World
Hours later Click awoke. It was a sensation of spinning vertigo that brought him to his senses. He found himself suspended in mid-air. The shell was wobbling, twisting, and turning in spinning confusion.
He rubbed his eyes, started to swim through the atmosphere within, found drowsiness again sweeping over him, and dropped off to peaceful oblivion, his limbs gloriously relaxed.
Again he slept. Voices in his ears brought him to. He found himself lying against the floor of the shell. Through the thick glass window in the floor he could see the round surface of a globe.
At first he thought it was the earth; then he realized it was vastly different.
The surface showed a mass of piled-up clouds, and the reflected light from those clouds was such as to dazzle the eye. Through the tops of the cloud masses could be seen the snowcapped peak of a single towering mountain. But for miles and miles the clouds extended in tumbled masses.
Professor Wagner stood at the switchboard control and upon his face was a smile of serene tranquillity. The sun was about quartering, and a portion of the dark side of the planet could be observed.
The girl’s sparkling eyes regarded him with crisp enthusiasm.
“Oh, you’re awake. Lord, how you slept! It’s lucky the navigation wasn’t intrusted to you.”
“Venus?” asked Click.
“Venus,” answered the professor.
“Where’s Badger?”
“Asleep. I gave him an opiate. He was too much of a nuisance.”
Click glanced at the planet again.
“Why all the clouds?”
Professor Wagner squinted at the periscope image.
“Always clouds. That makes it seem logical that it’s inhabited. There’s water vapor in the atmosphere. There’s a high reflecting power. It’s scientifically known as the albedo. The albedo of Venus is 0.76. In other words, the light that is reflected is almost three-fourths of the light received. It’s just about the reflecting power of new snow.”
He flipped the lever, manipulated the slide.
The surface of the billowing clouds came up toward him, dazzling with their brilliance. Then a swirling streamer of cloud stretched misty tentacles toward the shell, swirled about it, and they were enveloped in a white mist.
Darker and darker became the mist. The eyes slowly adjusted themselves to the greater darkness after the white brilliance of the reflecting cloud banks. Lower and lower went the shell, but its progress could only be told by the slithering clouds of moisture which slipped past the sides of the shell.
“Keep a sharp watch for obstacles,” called Professor Wagner. “If you see anything, shout at once.”
Click pressed his face against the floor glass, watched below. There was nothing but fine drifting mist, and through that mist a strange, unreal light penetrated.
And then a bit of mist seemed to congeal, take color.
“Hold everything!” he yelled.
The girl saw it at the same time.
“Something dark below.”
The professor held the shell motionless, then joined them at the floor window.
“Humph,” he said. “The top of a tree. Watch it. We’ll try to avoid the branches.”
He returned to the controls. The shell settled lightly, down, down. The top of the tree slipped past to one side.
“Great heavens! It’s got a diameter of over ten feet right near the top, and some of those branches are regular trees in themselves,” said Dorothy.
Suddenly Click gave a shout. “Life!” he exclaimed. “A bird fell out below and flew away. It was an enormous bird, bigger than our eagles. And it looked as though it wore spectacles.”
Professor Wagner chuckled.
“If some of our contemporaries on the earth could only be with us! But that bird’s flying is a wonderfully favorable sign. It shows that the atmosphere must be equally dense with that of our earth. Gravitation we know is about the same. Ah, here’s another tree to one side. We’re going down between them, and look. Here’s the ground!”
The shell dropped rapidly, checked itself, fluttered to the ground as lightly as a snowflake, then was quickly sent up.
“It’s a regular morass!” exclaimed Click.
“We’ll bounce up and try it over a little farther. Watch out for trees, but I’ll have the gravitation at zero and the speed down to three or four miles an hour. There won’t be much momentum. Here we go.”
The shell drifted through the forest. Overhead the luminous sky reflected dusky light through the ever present mists.
The great trees stretched up in long spires of green. The shell was about twenty-five feet above the ground, floating along like a great soap7 bubble.
Dorothy gave a shriek.
“A man! Watching us from the tree. Quick, look!”
And there, perched on the limb of a small tree, regarding them with unblinking solemnity, was a man, some four feet in height, clothed in some peculiar texture which seemed a species of silk.
In appearance he was very like an earth man, save for the eyes. Those eyes were apparently without lids, were so large and protruding as to dominate the entire face. The pupils alone were almost an inch in diameter, and they regarded the drifting shell with an owl-like scrutiny of expressionless contemplation.
Professor Wagner guided the shell closer, brought it to a stop, lightly drifting against a tree branch.
The strange creature slipped from the branch, caught a twig with fingers that were somewhat like those of a monkey, and dropped to another branch, hit the trunk, went down it with an agility that no earth human had ever possessed, and disappeared in deep ferns.
Search as they might, they could find no sign of him. He had vanished.
The professor reluctantly set the shell in motion again, drifting at a slow rate of speed. Within half a mile the forest abruptly thinned to a clearing. Bare ground, hard and brown, cleared into a huge circle, was beneath.
“That is undoubtedly the work of man,” said Professor Wagner, and dropped the shell to the ground, brought it to a rest, slipped the gravitational control over to normal, and opened the door.
Moist air came pouring in, air that smelled of mists, dripping green stuffs, decaying wood. Dank, yet warm and pleasant, the air seemed to bathe them as a lukewarm shower.
“All out for Venus!” yelled Professor Wagner.
Click got to his feet, sighed, took a step, and then held back. For into the clearing had suddenly debouched a row of men, marching gravely from the fern-rimmed forest.
“Ah,” sighed Professor Wagner, and stepped to the ground of the planet.
The line of men advanced.
“Look here,” insisted Click, “I don’t like their looks. We’ve got some weapons inside. Let’s get them ready. We may have to fight.”
“Bosh! That is the way hostilities start. Think you we are going to come here and depart without stopping to investigate these inhabitants? We must investigate their flora and fauna, take motion pictures, learn their language, their tribal beliefs, their family life. We can’t do all that by starting a fight.
“Their clothes look like silk. Do you know, I believe those eyes can penetrate the fog. You’ll notice there’s a reddish tinge to the light. The violet rays are absorbed in the upper layers of atmosphere.
“That’s the chief there in front. He’s coming this way. Hold up your hands, palms outward. Hang him, can’t he tell a gesture of friendship? And look at their joints. See how they bulge. That’s probably caused by generations of rheumatism. Gradually they’ve become immune to it, probably, but the joints are remarkably enlarged. They average about four feet. Almost dwarfs, but—’’
The line swung at the ends, became a half circle, swept about,
darted inward, and the trio found themselves crowded out from their entrance, walled in by the little creatures who surveyed them in austere silence.
“Hello, howdy. We come for a visit.”
Professor Wagner smiled, waved his hands, bowed.
The circle made no motion.
“More men coming out from the forest, Professor,” warned Click in an undertone.
“They’re our friends,” said the professor, and smiled again.
A man stepped forth from the circle.
“That will be the chief. He’s an old man, yet there’s no wrinkling of the skin. Notice how they all appear to be of about the same age,” muttered the professor. ‘‘But the chief has certain unmistakable indications of age. He has knotted veins in his temples, and the teeth are worn down. Then there’s his neck. The neck glands are almost invariably deficient in aged persons. Why, look out—the beggar’s hostile!”
“Look out, Father!’’ shrieked the girl.
For the chiefs lips had twisted back from his gums. He opened his mouth, barked a single shrill word, and lunged forward.
The circle closed. Hands reached out.
Click swung a terrific blow.
To his surprise, the little man side-stepped that blow with an agility that would have done credit to a monkey. Strong hands darted forward, seized his wrists, and Click knew then that these men were incredibly muscular, for the hands bit deeply into his skin, held with a grip of iron.
A twisted strand of some light substance appeared from nowhere, was looped about his hands and twisted over his neck.
From behind him he could see the others were being similarly treated.
The chief opened his mouth again. Another single sound issued forth. And, with that sound, he turned abruptly. Some of the men remained behind with the shell. The others accompanied the chief. And the captives followed, persuaded by a single jerk of the rope that had been placed around their necks.
“We’re going to be taken into the forest. Now we shall see how the men live,” purred the professor.
The Human Zero- The Science Fiction Stories Of Erle Stanley Gardner Page 40