What the Graves Revealed
Hargraves carried the shovel. He and Noble were armed, and very much
alert.
"When you ask me if it is chemically possible for a man--or an
animal--to freeze, die, be buried, then rise again and live, I cannot
answer," Noble said. "So far as I know, it is not possible. The physical
act of freezing will involve tremendous and seemingly irreversible
changes in the body cells. Thawing will produce almost immediate
bacterial action, which also seems irreversible. All I can say is, if
Hal Sarkoff is alive, we have seen a miracle that contradicts chemical
laws as we know them."
"And if he is not alive, we face a miracle of duplication. Whatever it
is that is sleeping back in the ship, it looks, talks, acts, like Hal
Sarkoff, even to memory. Can you suggest any method by which flesh and
bone could be so speedily moulded into a living image of a man whom we
know died?"
"No," said Noble bluntly. "Jed, do you realize all the possible
implications of this situation?"
"Probably not," Hargraves answered. "Some that I do recognize, I exclude
from my thoughts."
His tone was so harsh that Noble said nothing more.
Dawn was already breaking over this Vegan world. The sky in the east was
the color of pearl. In the trees over them, creatures that sounded like
birds were beginning to chirp.
They reached the place where they had buried Hal Sarkoff and his two
companions.
The graves were empty.
No effort had been made to conceal the fact that the graves had been
opened. The dirt had been shoveled out again and had not been shoveled
back.
There were marks in the dirt, the tracks of sandaled feet. "Thulon, the
three who were with him, wore sandals!" Hargraves rasped. "They came
back here. They opened these graves."
"But what happened after that? Are you suggesting those primitive
gray-beards resurrected Hal Sarkoff?"
"I'm not suggesting anything because I don't know anything," Hargraves
answered. "I am just remembering that Thulon and the three who were with
him _looked human too_! I am also remembering that the sphere which
attacked us seemingly was without a crew. Our beams blasted it wide
open. It was seemingly filled with machinery. Nothing else. If there
were any intelligent creatures in it, they were in no form that we
recognize. Come on!" Hargraves started running toward the ship.
The ship, badly damaged as it was, represented their sole hope of
survival. Without it, they would be helpless.
Hal Sarkoff was with the ship. Or the thing that was masquerading as
Sarkoff. Thulon had looked human too. Possibly Sarkoff and his two dead
comrades had been removed from their graves in order to make possible a
perfect duplication of their bodies, the probing of cell structure, both
body and brain. Perhaps the things that lurked here on this world could
read memories from dead minds. That might be the explanation of
Sarkoff's memory.
The important fact was that Sarkoff's body was not in its grave. Where
so much was unknown, this was one indisputable fact. The thing that was
on the ship must be placed not only under heavy guard but in a cage from
which escape was impossible. Then an examination could begin.
There was evil on this world. The trees, the vegetation, the ground
under his racing feet, was evil. In his calmer moments Jed Hargraves
would have said that evil was another word for danger. He wasn't calm
now. The panic he had been rigidly excluding from his mind had burst the
dam he had built before it. He could feel danger in the air. It was in
the dawn, in the light of the sky. It was everywhere. He and his
companions were aliens on this world, and the planet was striking at
them, striving to eliminate them, contriving to destroy them.
He heard it before he saw it.
Something was grunting in the air. Above the tops of the trees something
was grunting. He needed seconds to recognize the sound. Then he
recognized it. And jerked himself to a halt, his eyes wildly probing
upward.
He saw it.
* * * * *
The ship. The grunting roar had come from the Kruchek drivers fighting
the gravity of the planet.
The ship had taken off without them.
Had Nielson gone mad? Had he seen danger approaching and jumped the ship
into the sky to escape it?
"Wait! Nielson! Pick us up!"
The ship flew on. Gaining speed, it passed over their heads. They caught
another glimpse of it as it passed over an opening in the branches of
the trees. Then it was gone, the throb of the drivers dying quickly
away.
"Nielson will come back for us." Noble's voice, usually poised and
assured, was garbled. "He'll return and pick us up. He won't leave us
here."
"He had some reason for taking off," Hargraves heard himself saying.
"He'll come back. He has to." Subconsciously he knew that this, at the
very best, was wishful thinking.
The ship had no more than vanished until another sound came to their
ears, that of men shouting. A group came into sight among the trees,
following along the ground the course the ship had taken through the
air.
"They're our fellows!" Hargraves heard Noble gasp.
"What happened?" the captain demanded, as the group approached.
Nielson was in the lead. There was a bruise on his cheek and his right
eye was already beginning to turn black. "I'll tell you what happened!"
he said savagely. "Sarkoff and Ron Val took over the ship, that's what
happened!"
"Ron Val!"
"That's what I said. Ron Val was helping him. They pulled guns. Before
we knew what was happening, they had herded us together and were shoving
us outside. I tried to stop it and Sarkoff took a poke at me."
"It wasn't really Sarkoff, then?" Noble whispered.
"Any damned fool would have known that!" Nielson answered. He spoke to
the bio-chemist but his eyes were on Hargraves. "I'm going to repeat
that, so there won't be any misunderstanding of my meaning. Any damned
fool would have known that a dead man doesn't get up out of his grave
and come to life again. Except you, Hargraves. You always were a sucker
for fairy stories."
Jed Hargraves winced with every word that was spoken. They kept on
coming.
"You ought to have known that thing wasn't Hal Sarkoff. Any man in his
right senses would have known it instantly. Any man fit to command would
have taken measures to meet the situation, either by destroying that
thing, or locking it up. But you were running things, Hargraves. You
were in charge. And you had to sit back and think before you would act.
You had to make sure you were right, before you went ahead. Your
negligence, Hargraves, cost us our only chance of ever returning home."
Nielson's voice was harsh with anger. And--Hargraves recognized the
bitter truth--every word Nielson uttered was correct. Whatever the thing
was that had come to the ship, he should have recognized it as a source
of danger. He had so recognized it. But he had not acted.
"I--"
"Shut up!" Nielson snapped. "According to our agreement, any time you
are shown to be unfit to command, you may be removed by a vote of the
majority. There is no question but that you have shown yourself unfit to
be in charge of this expedition."
* * * * *
No time was wasted in reaching a decision. To Nielson's question as to
whether Hargraves should be removed from command, there was a chorus of
"Ayes."
"No," said one voice. It was Usher, the archeologist.
"State your objection," Nielson rasped.
"The old one about changing horses in mid-stream," the archeologist
answered. "Also the old one about not jumping to conclusions before all
the evidence is in."
"What evidence isn't in?"
"We don't know why Ron Val joined Sarkoff," the archeologist answered.
"What difference does that make? We don't even know that Ron Val was
still himself. The thing that looked like Ron Val might have been
another monstrosity like Sarkoff."
"So it might," the archeologist shrugged. "Anyhow my vote is not
important. I'm just putting it in for the sake of the record, if there
ever is a record. I would also like to mention that if ever we needed
discipline and unity, now is the time."
"We will have discipline, I promise you," Nielson said. "Hargraves, you
are removed from command, understand?"
"Yes," said Hargraves steadily.
Only one ballot was needed to put Nielson in charge.
"All right," said Ushur to the new captain. "You're the boss now. We're
all behind you. What are you going to do?"
"Do? I--" Nielson looked startled. He glanced at Hargraves.
The former captain sighed. It was easy enough to elect a new leader.
Vehemently he wished that all problems could be solved so easily.
"I suggest," he said, "--and this is only a suggestion--that we attempt
to find the ship, and if possible, to regain possession of her. She is
the only tool we have to work with."
"That is exactly what I was going to say," Nielson said emphatically.
"Find the ship."
To give him credit, he set about the job in a workmanlike manner,
sending two scouts ahead of the main group, throwing out a scout on each
flank. The only way they could hope to find the ship was by following
the course it had taken through the air. Since Sarkoff, in taking over
the vessel, had not disarmed them, each possessed a vibration pistol. In
a fight against ordinary enemies they would be able to give a good
account of themselves. But would any enemy they met likely be ordinary?
Hargraves drew Usher aside. "I would like to talk to you," he said.
"What actually happened when the ship was taken?"
"I don't know, Jed," the archeologist ruefully answered. "I was in my
cabin. The first thing I knew I heard a hell of a hullabaloo going on up
in the control room. I dashed up there to see what was going on."
"What was happening?"
"Nielson, Rodney, Turner, and a couple of others were there. So
were--well, they looked like Sarkoff and Ron Val. Nielson was getting up
off the floor. Sarkoff and Ron Val had both drawn their guns and were
covering the group. When I came charging in, Sarkoff covered me. Before
I could recover from my surprise, he and Ron Val had kicked every one of
us out of the ship. Then they took off." The archeologist shook his
shaggy head.
"Ron Val was helping?"
"No question about it. Which means, of course, that he was either under
some subtle form of hypnosis, or _it_ wasn't Ron Val. I would bet my
life on his loyalty."
* * * * *
"So would I," said Hargraves. And the memory came back of how thrilled
Ron Val had been at the prospect of landing on this, world. "It would
mean a lot to find people here. We could exchange experiences, learn a
lot," Ron Val had said, his face glowing at the thought. All the others
had felt the same way. The Third Interstellar Expedition had no military
ambitions. It was not bent on conquest. The solar system had outgrown
military expeditions, war, and the thought of war, and cruisers went out
from it not to fight but to learn. Knowledge was the thing they sought,
all knowledge, so the human race could determine its place in the
cosmos, could know the history of all things past, could possibly
forecast the shape of things to come.
The landing of the Third Interstellar Expedition on this Vegan world had
been a part of a vast evolution, a march that, starting on earth so long
ago that all history of it was forever lost, was now reaching out across
the cosmos. A new evolution! Ron Val had always been talking about this
new evolution. It was one of his favorite subjects.
"What do you make of this world?" Hargraves asked abruptly. "The only
sign of civilization we have seen is this vast grove. No cities, no
industrial plants, no evidence of progress. Yet the spherical ship that
attacked us certainly indicates a highly mechanical civilization. Of
course there may be cities here that we haven't seen, but as we landed
we saw a large land area. No roads were visible, no canals, not even any
cultivated fields. What does all this mean to you, as an archeologist?"
"Nothing," Usher answered promptly. "I would say this country is a
wilderness. But the trees planted in regular rows disprove this. On
earth, at least, centuries would be required for trees as large as these
to grow. Forestry, planned centuries in advance, can only come from a
high and stable culture. However, as you say, all other signs of this
high culture are absent, no cities, no transportation facilities,
apparently damned few inhabitants--we have seen only four. All
civilizations with which we are familiar move through recognized stages,
first the nomadic stage, which involves tending flocks and herds. Then
comes the tilling of the soil, in which farming is the principal
occupation of most of the people. After that, with industrialization, we
have cities developing. If there is another stage we have not reached it
on earth."
"Do you think they might have reached the final stage here?" Hargraves
questioned.
"I don't know what the final stage may be," the archeologist answered.
"Also, and this is more important, I can't begin to guess at the real
nature of the inhabitants of this world. Until I do know their real
nature, what they look like, what they eat, where they sleep, what they
think, I can't even guess intelligently about them. However," Usher
broke off with a wry grin, "all these philosophical observations are of
no importance while our own necks are threatened with the ax."
Vega was straight overhead when they found the ship. One of the advance
scouts came hurrying back with the information.
"She is lying in a little meadow beside the lake," the scout reported.
"They're doing something to her. I can't tell what. But the trees extend
to within fifty yards of her. We can approach that near without being
seen."