Hastings' eyes were steady. "I may be wrong, sure. But anything can
happen out here. We're not on Earth, Mr. Arnsen. Earth laws don't
apply. Neither does logic. We're on the edge of the unknown."
"I never thought you were superstitious."
"I'm not. Only I've been around, and seen a lot. That crystal Mr.
O'Brien lugs around with him--I never saw anything like that before."
He waited, but Arnsen didn't speak. "All right, then. I've known things
to drift in from Outside. Funny things, damn funny. The Solar System's
like a Sargasso. It catches flotsam from other systems, even other
universes, for all I know. One rule I've learned--when you can't guess
the answer, it's a good idea to stay clear."
Arnsen grunted moodily, staring out a port at the glaring brilliance of
the stars.
"Ever heard any stories about jewels like that one?"
Hastings shook his closely-cropped head. "No. But I saw a wreck once,
Sunside of Pluto--a ship that hadn't been designed in this System. It
was deserted; God knows how long it had been out there. Or where it
came from. Inside, it wasn't designed for human beings at all. It came
from Outside, of course, and Outside is a big place. That jewel, now--"
He bit the end off a quid of tobacco.
"What about it?"
"It's an Outside sort of thing. And your friend isn't acting normal. It
may add up to trouble. It may not. My point is that I'm going to keep
my eyes open, and you'd be wise to do the same thing."
Arnsen went back to the galley and fried eggs, angry with himself for
listening to Hastings' hints. He was more than ever uncomfortable. Back
on Earth, it had been easier to disbelieve in any unknown powers that
the gray jewel might possess; here, it was different. Space was the
hinterland, the waste that bordered the cryptic Outside. The forward
step in science that threw open the gates of interplanetary travel had,
in a way, taken man back in time to a day when he cowered in a cave,
fearing the powers of the dark that lurked in the unknown jungle.
Space travel had broken barriers. It opened a door that, perhaps,
should have remained forever closed.
On the shores of space strange flotsam was cast. Arnsen's gaze probed
out through the port, to the red globe of Mars, the blinding brilliance
of the Milky Way, the enigmatic shadow of the Coal Sack. Out there
anything might lie. Life grown from a matrix neither Earthly nor even
three-dimensional. Charles Fort had hinted at it; scientists had
hazarded wild guesses. The cosmic womb of space, from which blasphemous
abortions might be cast.
So they went on, day after day, skirting Mars and plunging on into the
thick of the asteroid belt. It was uncharted country now, a Sargasso of
remnants from an exploded planet that had existed here eons ago. Sounds
rang loudly in the narrow confines of the space ship. Nervousness
gripped all three of the men. But O'Brien found comfort in the gray
crystal. His eyes held a glowing light of triumph.
"We are coming closer, Steve," he said. "Deirdre isn't far away now."
"Damn Deirdre," Arnsen said--but not aloud.
The ship went on, following the blind course O'Brien pointed. Hastings
shook his head in grim silence, and trained his passengers in the use
of the space-suits. Few of the asteroids had atmosphere, and it became
increasingly evident that the destination was an asteroid....