Wolden and Ato, acting as pilot and co-pilot, set The Nebula down with as
much ease as a housewife putting a fine piece of china upon the drainboard.
There was no fuss and no noise. Jack Odin had seen B-47's come in with a
great deal more hubbub and dithers than the Nebula had caused.
The screens were still on. Out there all was dark, and a wealth of stars
was in the purple-black sky. They seemed larger and brighter. Wolden
touched a knob and the stars on the screen before them slowly grew larger
and larger. "An astronomer's paradise," he said to Odin. "Look closely and
you can see Centauri's binary suns. Here, with no refraction, a small
telescope can do as well as the best that your people have made. There is
no telling what your large ones could do. Ah, the riddles that could be
answered."
Odin shrugged. Like almost everyone else, he had often fancied how it would
be to land on the moon. Now he was here, and the surface of the moon was
blacker than the blackest night he had ever seen. Moreover, there had been
no change in gravity. The Nebula had been built to take care of that.
As though sensing his thoughts, Wolden began to explain. "We are less than
fifty miles from a spot where the earth could be seen. Not over a degree
below the curvature. In fact, if the moon were full, there would be a bit
of light here, for a strong light playing upon any globe always lights up
over half of it. We are not far from the Heroynian Mountains and the Bay of
Dew. Just a few miles within that other side of the moon which none of your
people have ever seen before."
Odin remembered Jules Verne's account of a volcano spouting its last breath
of life in that zone, but out there was nothing but the dark and the stars
that smoldered like sapphires, rubies, and diamonds upon a black velvet
sky. There were no shadows. The darkness was solid, as though it had frozen
there since old and no spark had ever invaded it.
"Be patient, my friend," Wolden had sensed his thoughts again. "Before
long, you will see more of the moon than men have ever known. We sent a
smaller ship into space. Remember! Our scientists are here. In a place
beyond your dreams. Look. They are coming now."
Wolden was adjusting the screen again. Far off, something like a long
jointed bug with a single glaring light in its head was crawling toward
them.
It drew nearer. Jack Odin saw that it was no more than a huge caterpillar
tractor with several cars attached, armored and sheathed with sort of a
bellows-type connection at each joint. As it neared the Nebula, it played
its light around so that Odin got his first glimpse of the moon. Barren,
worn, cindered. An ash-heap turned to stone. Puddles and splashes shaped
like great crowns, as though liquid rock had congealed at the very height
of its torment. Needles of rock, toadstools of rock, bubbles of rock, and
glassy sheets of rock--this was the surface of the moon.
Then the crawling tractor with its cars lumbering along behind it on their
endless tracks was below them and playing its single light upward.
* * * * *
An air-lock in the Nebula opened and a huge hose came slowly down. Odin
watched it on the screen. It seemed to have been pleated and shoved
together like an accordion. Now it opened out in little jerking movements,
extending itself about two feet at each writhing twitch. As it grew longer
it expanded and was nearly three feet across when it reached the top of the
first car. A round door opened. Unseen hands reached the end of the big
hose and fastened it securely.
Odin had often dreamed of landing on the moon. There, in the traditional
space-suit, with a plastic bubble about his head, he would leap twenty feet
into the air, and maybe even turn a somersault as a gesture of man's escape
from the tiring tyranny of gravity. Compared to this dream, his arrival
upon the moon was just a bit ridiculous. He and over a score of others
simply slid down the inside of the long, slanting hose like a group of
third-graders practicing on the fire-escape at the school house.
* * * * *
Larger than the others, Odin landed awkwardly upon the floor of the car.
Before he could jump aside, another passenger piled upon him. It was a
girl, and the perfume in her hair was the same that Maya had always used.
He helped her to her feet and drew her aside just as another voyager came
sliding down. The girl was Nea. Somehow, he had an odd feeling that Maya
was here. He was just a bit annoyed at Nea, and wished to himself that she
wasn't making the trip. She shook her black curls and thanked him softly.
"How awkward of me," she explained. "It wouldn't have happened if I had not
been carrying this--"
She held up a little round satchel. It was exactly like the cases that
people used in his country for carrying bowling balls. Odin was puzzled.
And he assured himself that he would never understand women. Why would
the girl be carrying a bowling ball with her into outer space?
Odin joined Wolden, Ato, and Gunnar in the "engine" of the bumpy little
train. Here were real windows of quartz, and he could see more of the
moon's surface as the tractor and its jointed cars wheeled about in a
great circle and headed off in the direction from whence it had come.
Once there was a loud _Ping_ upon the roof above them. The tractor shook.
"A meteorite," the driver explained. "They're thick tonight. Don't worry.
There's a screen upon the roof that slows them down and melts 'em. The
larger ones never reach us. Some of the tiny ones get through."
They came to a sheer mountain which in the beams of the tractor looked like
a silver pyramid painted across a jet-black canvas.
As though answering an unheard vibration, a door opened and they lumbered
in. The door closed behind them. For a moment they were in such darkness
that even the beam from the tractor seemed alien. Then another door started
to open before them and a widening shaft of light was there to greet them.
Odin was thinking that each race must have some craft at which it excels
all others. If so, then the building of air-locks was certainly the Brons'
highest art.
Then they advanced into a cavern where five tiny atomic suns were strung
out at equal distances upon the ceiling. The cavern was geometrical.
Roughly, it was a mile long, half a mile wide, and half a mile high. The
floor was smooth; the walls were sheer. "As though they had been shaped by
human hand," Odin thought, but he soon learned that other hands had
sheered those walls.
In the very middle of the cavern was a little lake, shaped in the same
proportion as the floor. It was surrounded by green grass, and at one
corner was a profusion of water-lilies and cat-tails. There were no trees,
but flowers were everywhere. A few small bushes. Here and there were great
clumps of vines. Odin guessed them to be wild cucumber and trumpet vines,
for they had grown riotously.
It was beautiful indeed, but there were other things to catch the eye. At
least a hundred hemispheres--little igloos of porcelain--were scattered
about the floor of the cave. Each one was a different color. They shimmered
and glittered. Scarlet, mauve, mother-of-pearl, the blue Capri, and the
blue of cobalt. Pinks, yellows, oranges. Every possible shade had gone into
those porcelain igloos. And the lighted walls of the cavern were covered
from floor to ceiling with numberless figures, marching, fighting, working,
playing. At first, Odin thought it was a vast procession of armored knights
with huge chests and closed visors. But none of them stood completely
erect--and each of them had two sets of arms.
Straining his eyes at the windows to look up, Odin learned that the vast
ceiling was completely covered by similar figures.
In contrast to these was one huge tower of rough stone which Odin guessed
to be new.
So they came to the moon, and disembarked. And at last Odin felt the
lightened pull of the moon's gravity. He felt so free that he laughed and
leaped into the air and turned a somersault just as he had dreamed of
doing. Then one of the Brons' scientists gave him a heavy pair of shoes--as
if to remind him that no man can be altogether free.
As he glumly strapped the heavy shoes to his feet, Jack thought of
something his father had told him: "No man was ever really free, unless it
was Robinson Crusoe. Then Friday showed up and became Crusoe's servant, and
Crusoe's freedom flew away."
* * * * *
Forty-eight hours had passed since they came to the cavern. Odin and
Gunnar had gone with Wolden to visit the Scientist who had led the first
expedition to the moon. The Scientist, whose name was Gor, was explaining:
"--They were hardly out of the Iron Age. That was how we found this place.
Our instruments detected a surplus of iron in this area. They must have
developed fast--for life did not last long. Insectival, beyond a doubt.
Also, they had what we call The Moon Metal. Their houses, practically
everything they used, are made of that. It must have been an accident. In
cooling, the moon spewed this new alloy out upon its surface. Yes, it looks
like porcelain--but it is as hard as steel. It has strange vibrations.
They had musical instruments--although they may have produced tingling
vibrations instead of sound. When these people saw that all was lost, they
retreated here and closed the cave.
"For over a thousand years, theirs was an economy of death and rottenness.
Mushrooms and toadstools were their food. Banks of rotting mushrooms made
their light. Also, it appears they had some rocks which gave out a dim
glow. Even their dead went to feed the mushrooms. And so they lived. With
time on their hands they covered the walls with paintings. Also, we think
they must have developed their music to a high degree--though we may never
know about that. Then their water and air gave out and they died."
* * * * *
Good heavens, Odin thought, what a cold-blooded obituary for any race!
"And so, Wolden," the Scientist continued, "it has worked out well. We were
lucky to find this spot. We fashioned the two doors first, for the cave was
open when we reached it--I think a meteor must have crashed here long after
these people died. After that, it was easy to build the lights and to draw
moisture and air from the rocks. We have struck a balance now. I said all
along that it could be done, if we could escape the constant interference
from those ruffians above us--uh, Odin, I beg your pardon."
Odin always resented these cracks at his people so he ignored the request
by asking another question. "But how did you do all this in so short a
time? Those vines look like they have been growing for years."
"Just as they do in Alaska during the growing season. We kept our suns
burning all the time. Soon we may be able to afford both day and night, but
not yet.
"And after that," the Scientist went on, "we were able to get back to your
work on the Time-Space Continuum. We have made some wonderful advances. I
would like to show you--but Gunnar and Odin, I am boring you."
"Wouldn't you care to look at the new lake?" Wolden urged.
"I can take a hint," Gunnar grumbled. "Nobody wants a fighting man about
until the swords are flashing--"
As Odin and Gunnar went down the front steps of the tower, they met the
girl Nea. She was swinging the bowling-ball-shaped satchel at her side.
When they greeted her, Odin felt that he could hold back his curiosity no
longer. "Are you a bowler, Miss Nea?" he asked.
"A bowler!" Then she laughed a silvery laugh. "Oh, no. This is an invention
of mine. My father and I were working on it. He died in the tunnel when it
was flooded." For a second her dark eyes appeared infinitely sad. Then she
laughed again. "But it is not perfected. It may not ever be perfected now.
I thought that perhaps Wolden and Gor might help me with it."
Gunnar muttered some words that might be roughly interpreted as "Fat
Chance" and he and Odin left the girl on the steps.
As they walked around the little lake which was as smooth as a mirror,
Gunnar explained. "Her mother was a cousin to Maya's mother. You know how
the Brons number their kin to the seventh generation. Her father was one of
the Scientists. A brilliant man--but a poor provider. However, he died
nobly. Remember, Nors-King, Nea's branch of the family is a strange group.
They have done brilliant things, but they have thought up some hare-brained
schemes, too. As I said before, she is also kin to Grim Hagen--"
Another day had passed. The voyagers had been summoned to a council hall
within the tower. A screen was set up for the convenience of those who had
been left upon the Nebula.
Wolden arose to speak. "My friends, a troubled question has entered my
mind. As you know, I am a man of peace. My entire life has been spent in
developing theories upon what I call this subject before me. I had thought
it to be something that could be developed within three generations--if we
were left at peace. But we were not left at peace. And I accepted your
decision that we go forth into space and find Grim Hagen. But now I have
learned new things. This discovery of the Moon Metal has advanced my work
by fifty years. Gor here has advanced it farther. We are upon the brink of
perfecting my life's work. Now, I ask that I be relieved of command. Look,
you have my son Ato. A much better commander than I could ever be. Let me
stay here with my work, I beg of you."
So the votes were taken, following a century-old ritual. Wolden was
relieved of command and Ato was given his place.
Hours later Gunnar and Odin sat with Ato in his quarters, making some
last-minute decisions.
There was a knock at the door. Wolden entered, carrying a strange-looking
slug-horn that glimmered like mother-of-pearl. "I want you to take this
with you," he begged his son. "It is made of the Moon-Metal. I think I know
its secret now. A vibration that defies a vacuum. I hope to perfect my
work, but I may not. Here," he offered the tiny horn to his son. "Blow it
if you need me. It is soundless, but it defies time and space just as my
work does. I carry a ring to match it. I may not succeed. But blow it when
you need me, son, and if I can I'll be there--"
Tears were in the eyes of both when Ato took the slug-horn from his father.