WITHIN the NEBULA
By EDMOND HAMILTON
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Weird Tales May 1929.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Standing at the controls, beside me, the silent steersman raised his
hand for a moment to point forward through the pilot room's transparent
wall.
"Canopus at last," he said, and I nodded. Together, and in silence, we
gazed ahead.
Before and around us there stretched away the magnificent panorama of
interstellar space, familiar enough to our eyes but ever new, a vast
reach of deep black sky dotted thickly with the glittering hosts of
stars. The blood-red of Antares, the pale green of great Sirius, the
warm, golden light of Capella, they flamed in the firmament about us
like splendid jewels of light. And dead ahead there shone the one orb
that dwarfed and dimmed all the others, a titanic radiant white sun
whose blazing circle seemed to fill the heavens before us, the mighty
star of Canopus, vastest of all the Galaxy's thronging suns.
For all that I had visited it many times before, it was with something
of awe that I contemplated the great white sun, as our ship flashed on
toward it. Its colossal blazing bulk, I knew, was greater far than the
whole of our own little solar system, millions of times larger than
our own familiar little star, infinitely the most glorious of all the
swarming suns. It seemed fitting, indeed, that at Canopus had been
located the seat of the great Council of Suns of which I was myself
a member, representing our own little solar system in that mighty
deliberative body whose members were drawn from every peopled star.
In thoughtful silence I gazed toward the mighty sun ahead, and for a
time there was no sound in the bridgeroom except for the deep humming
of the ship's generators, whose propulsion-vibrations flung us on
through space. Then, against the dazzling glare of the gigantic star
ahead, there appeared a tiny black dot, expanding swiftly in size as we
raced on toward it. Around and beyond it other dots were coming into
view, also, changing as we flashed on to disks, to globes, to huge and
swarming planets that spun in vast orbits about their mighty parent
sun. And it was toward the largest and inmost of these whirling worlds,
the seat of the great Council, that our ship was now slanting swiftly
downward.
Beneath us I could see the great planet rapidly expanding and
broadening, until its tremendous coppery sphere filled all the
heavens below. By that time our velocity had slackened to less than a
light-speed, and even this speed decreased still further as we entered
the zone of traffic about the great planet. For a few moments we
dropped cautiously downward through the swarming masses of interstellar
ships which jammed the upper levels, and then had swept past the busy
traffic-boats into one of the great descension-lanes, and were moving
smoothly down toward the planet's surface.
Around us there swarmed all the myriads of inbound ships that filled
the descension-lane, drawn from every quarter of the Galaxy toward
Canopus, the center and capital of our universe. Long cargo-ships
from far Spica there were, laden with all the strange merchandise of
that sun's circling worlds; luxurious passenger-liners from Regulus
and Altair, filled with tourists eager for their first sight of great
Canopus; swift little boats from the thronging suns and worlds of the
great Hercules cluster; battered tramps which owned no sun as home, but
cruised eternally through the Galaxy, carrying chance cargoes from
star to star; and here and there among the swarms of alien ships a
human-manned craft from our own distant little solar system. All these
and a myriad others raced smoothly beside and around us as we shot down
toward the mighty world beneath.
Swiftly, though, the traffic about us branched away and thinned as
we dropped nearer to the planet's surface. Beneath the light of
the immense white sun above, its landscape lay clearly revealed, a
far-sweeping panorama of smoothly sloping plains and valleys, parklike
in its alternation of lawn and forest. Here and there on the surface of
this world sprawled its shining cities, over whose streets and towers
our cruiser sped as we flashed on. Then, far ahead, a single mighty
gleaming spire became visible against the distant horizon, growing
as we sped on toward it into a colossal tower all of two thousand
feet square at its base, and which aspired into the radiant sunlight
for fully ten thousand feet. On each side of it there branched away
a curving line of smaller buildings, huge enough in themselves but
dwarfed to toylike dimensions by the looming grandeur of the stupendous
tower. And it was down toward the smooth sward at the tower's base that
our ship was slanting now, for this was the seat of the great Council
of Suns itself.
Down we sped toward the mighty structure's base, down over the great
buildings on either side which housed the different departments of the
Galaxy's government, down until our ship had come smoothly to rest
on the ground a hundred feet from the tower itself. Then the ship's
hull-door was clanging open, and a moment later I had stepped onto the
ground outside and was striding across the smooth sward toward the
mighty tower. Through its high-arched doorway I passed, and down the
tremendous corridor inside toward the huge doors at its end, which
automatically slid smoothly sidewise as I approached. The next moment I
had passed through them and stood in the Hall of the Council itself.
Involuntarily, as always, I paused on entering, so breath-taking
was the immensity of the place. A single vast circular room, with a
diameter of near two thousand feet, it covered almost all the mighty
tower's first floor. From the edge of the great circle the room's floor
sloped gently down toward its center, like a vast shallow bowl, and at
the center stood the small black platform of the Council Chief. Out
from that platform back clear to the great room's towering walls were
ranged the countless rows of seats, just filling now with the great
Council's thousands of members.
Beings there were among those thousands from every peopled sun in all
the Galaxy's hosts, drawn here like myself each to represent his star
in this great Council which ruled our universe. Creatures there were
utterly weird and alien in appearance, natives of the whirling worlds
of the Galaxy's farthest stars--creatures from Aldebaran, turtle-men
of the amphibian races of that star; fur-covered and slow-moving
beings from the planets of dying Betelgeuse; great octopus-creatures
from mighty Vega; invertebrate insect-men from the races of Procyon;
strange, dark-winged bat-folk from the weird worlds of Deneb; these,
and a thousand others, were gathered in that vast assemblage, forms
utterly different from each other physically, but able to mix and
understand each other on the common plane of intelligence.
* * * * *
Within another moment I had passed down the broad aisle and had
slipped into my own seat, and now I saw that on the black platform
at the room's center there stood silent the Council Chief. A strange
enough figure he made, for he was of the races of Canopus, natives of
this giant star-system, a great, unhuman head with no body and with
but a single staring eye, carrying himself on tiny, pipe-stem limbs.
Silently he stood there, contemplating the gathering members. Within
another minute all had taken their seats, and then a sudden hush swept
over them as the Council Chief stepped forward and began to speak,
in the tongue that has become universal throughout the Galaxy, his
strange, high voice carried to every end of the vast room by the great
amplifiers which make every whisper in it clearly heard.
"Members of the Council," he said, "I have called this meeting, have
summoned you here to Canopus, each from his native star, because I have
to place before you a matter of the utmost importance. I have summoned
you here because there has risen to face us the most vital problem that
has yet confronted us in our government of the Galaxy--the greatest and
most terrible danger, in fact, that has ever threatened our universe!
"Other dangers, other problems, have faced us in the past, and all
these we have overcome, by massing all our knowledge and science,
have ruled with more and more power over the inanimate matter of our
universe, our Galaxy. We have saved planets and their peoples from
extinction, by shifting them from dying old suns to flaming new ones.
We have succeeded in breaking up and annihilating some of the great
comets whose headlong flights were carrying destruction across the
Galaxy. We have even dared to change the course of suns, to prevent
collisions between them that would have annihilated their circling
worlds. It might seem, indeed, that we, the massed peoples of the
Galaxy, have risen to such power that all things in it are subject to
our will, obedient to our commands. But we have not. One thing alone
in the Galaxy remains beyond our power to change or alter, one thing
beside which all our power and our science are as nothing. And that is
the nebula.
"A nebula is the vastest thing in all our universe, and the most
mysterious. A gigantic mass of glowing gas that stretches across
countless billions of miles of space, its mighty bulk flames in the
heavens like a universe of fire. Beside its vast dimensions all the
suns of the Galaxy are but as sparks beside a great, consuming blaze.
Here and there in our Galaxy lie these mighty mysteries, these flaming
nebulæ, and mightiest of all is that one which we call the Orion
Nebula, that gigantic globe of flaming gas which measures light-years
in diameter, burning in giant splendor at the Galaxy's heart. We know
that the great nebula is growing slowly smaller, that through the eons
it contracts to form new blazing stars, but what its constitution may
be, what mysteries it may hide, has never been known, since it would be
annihilation for any ship to approach too near to its fiery splendor,
and all our interstellar traffic has detoured always far around its
flaming mass. Because of that inaccessibility no large attention has
ever been paid to the great nebula, nor would there be now, had not
something been discovered but now by our scientists regarding it which
seems to herald the end of our universe.
"As I have said, this nebula, this gigantic globe of flaming gas, lies
practically motionless in space at the heart of our Galaxy. A few weeks
ago, however, it was discovered by our astronomers that the great
flaming sphere of the nebula had begun slowly to revolve, to spin, and
that as the days went by it was spinning faster and faster. Through
the weeks since then our astronomers have watched it closely, and ever
faster it has spun, until now it is revolving at a terrific rate, a
rate that is still steadily increasing. And that accelerating spin of
the huge nebula must result, inevitably, in the doom of our universe.
"For our scientists have calculated that within two more weeks the
nebula's rate of spin will have become so great that it will no longer
be able to hold together, that it will disintegrate, break up, its
gigantic masses of incandescent gases flying off in all directions
like the pieces of a bursting fly-wheel. And those colossal clouds
of flaming gas, flying out through our Galaxy, our universe, will
inevitably sweep over and destroy countless thousands of our suns
and worlds, annihilating the worlds like midgets in candle-flame,
changing the suns into nebulous masses of flaming gas like themselves,
smashing gigantically through and across the Galaxy and destroying the
gravitational balance of its whirling suns and worlds until in a great
chaos of crashing stars and planets our universe ends as a vast, cosmic
wreck, our organizations and our civilizations gone forever!"
The Council Chief paused for a moment, and in that moment there was
silence over all the great hall, a silence unnatural, terrible,
unbroken by any slightest sound. I saw the members about me leaning
forward, gazing tensely toward the Council Chief, and when he spoke
again his words seemed to come to us through that strained silence as
though from some remoteness of distance.
"Terrible as this peril is," he was saying, "we must face it. Flight
is impossible, for where could we flee? We have but one chance to
save ourselves, our universe, and that is to halt the spinning of the
great nebula before the few days left us have passed, before this
cosmic cataclysm takes place. Some extraordinary force or forces have
set the great nebula to spinning thus, and if we could venture out to
the nebula, discover the nature of those forces, we might be able to
counteract them, to stop the nebula's spin and save our suns and worlds.
"It is impossible, of course, for any of our ordinary interstellar
ships to attempt this, since any that approached the great nebula would
perish instantly in its flaming heat. It chances, however, that some
of our scientists here have been working for months on the problem of
devising new heat-resistant materials, materials capable of resisting
temperatures which would destroy other substances. They have worked
on the principle that heat-resistance is a matter of atomic structure.
Steel, for instance, resists heat and fire better than wood because its
atomic structure, the arrangement of its atoms, is more stable, less
easily broken up. And following this principle they have devised a new
metallic compound or alloy whose atomic structure is infinitely more
stable than that of any material known to us previously, and which is
able to resist temperatures of thousands of degrees.
"Of this heat-resistant material an interstellar cruiser was
constructed, a cruiser which could venture into regions of heat where
other ships would perish instantly. It had been the intention to use
this cruiser to explore solar coronas, but at my order it has been
brought here to the Council Hall, equipped for action. For it is
my intention to use this cruiser to venture out close to the great
nebula's flaming fires, which it alone can do, and make a last effort
to discover and counteract whatever force or forces there are causing
the accelerating spin of the nebula that means doom to us. The cruiser
itself is not a large one, and with its present equipment can hold but
three for this trip, three on whom must rest all the chances for escape
of our universe. And these three I intend to choose now from among you,
three whose past careers and interstellar experience make them best
fitted for this hazardous and all-important trip."
He paused again, and over the massed members there swept now a whisper
of excitement, a low babel of a thousand unlike voices that stilled
suddenly as the Council Chief again spoke, his high, clear voice
sounding across the great room like a whip-crack.
"Sar Than of Arcturus!"
As he called the name a single figure rose from among the members to my
left, a bulbous body supported above the ground by four powerful thick
tentacles of muscle which served both as arms and legs, while set upon
the body was the round, neckless head, with its two quick, intelligent
eyes and narrow mouth. A moment the Arcturian paused on rising, then
stepped out into the aisle and down toward the central platform. And
now the voice of the Council Chief cut again across the rising clamor
of the members.
"Jor Dahat of Capella!"
Before me now another figure rose, one of the strange plant-men of
Capella, of the people who had evolved to intelligence and power from
the lower plant-races there; his body an upright cylinder of smooth,
fibrous flesh, supported by two short, thick legs and with a pair
of powerful upper arms, above which was the conical head whose two
green-pupiled eyes and close-set ears and mouth completed the figure.
In a moment he too had strode down toward the platform, and then, over
the tumultuous shouts of those in the great hall, which had risen now
to a steady roar of voices, there came the clear voice of the Council
Chief, with the third name.
"Ker Kal of Sun-828!"
For a moment I sat silent, my brain whirling, the words of the Council
Chief drumming in my ears, and then heard the excited voices of the
members about me, felt myself stumbling to my feet and down the aisle
in turn toward the platform. Beating in my dazed ears now was the
tremendous shouting clamor of all the gathered members, and beneath
that surging thunder of thousands of voices I sensed but dimly the
things about me, the Arcturian and Capellan beside me, the figure of
the Council Chief on the platform beyond them. Then I saw the latter
raise a slender arm, felt the uproar about me swiftly diminishing,
until complete silence reigned once more. And then the Council Chief
was speaking again, this time to us.
"Sar Than, Jor Dahat and Ker Kal," he addressed us, "you three are
chosen to go where only three can go, to approach the nebula and make
a final effort to discover and counteract whatever force or forces
there are causing this cataclysm that threatens us. Your cruiser is
ready and you will start at once, and to you I have no orders to give,
no instructions, no advice. My only word to you is this: If you fail
in this mission, where failure seems all but inevitable, indeed, our
Galaxy meets its doom, the countless trillions of our races their
deaths, the civilizations we have built up in millions of years
annihilation. But if you succeed, if you find what forces have caused
the spinning of the mighty nebula and are able to halt that spin, then
your names shall not die while any in the Galaxy live. For then you
will have done what never before was done or dreamed of, will have
stayed with your hands a colossal cosmic wreck, will have saved a
universe itself from death!"
2
As the door of the little pilot room clicked open behind me I half
turned from my position at the controls, to see my two companions
enter. And as the Arcturian and Capellan stepped over to my side I
nodded toward the broad fore-window.
"Two more hours and we'll be there," I said.
Side by side we three gazed ahead. About us once more there stretched
the utter blackness of the great void, ablaze with its jeweled suns.
Far behind shone the brilliant white star that was Canopus, and to our
right the great twin suns of Castor and Pollux, and above and beyond
them the yellow spark that was the sun of my own little solar system.
On each side and behind us hung the splendid starry canopy, but ahead
it was blotted out by a single vast circle of glowing light that filled
the heavens before us, titanic, immeasurable, the mighty nebula that
was our goal.
For more than ten days we had watched the vast globe of flaming
gas largening across the heavens as we raced on toward it, in the
heat-resistant cruiser that had been furnished us by the Council. Days
they were in which our generators had hummed always at their highest
power, propelling our craft forward through space with the swiftness of
thought, almost--long, changeless days in which the alternate watches
in the pilot room and the occasional inspection of the throbbing
generators had formed our only occupations.
On and on and on we had flashed, past sun after sun, star system
after star system. Many times we had swerved from our course as our
meteorometers warned us of vast meteor swarms ahead, and more than
once we had veered to avoid some thundering dark star which our charts
showed near us, but always the prow of our craft had swung back toward
the great nebula. Ever onward toward it we had raced, day after day,
watching its glowing sphere widen across the heavens, until now at last
we were drawing within sight of our journey's end, and were flashing
over the last few billions of miles that separated us from our goal.
And now, as we drew thus nearer toward the nebula's fiery mass, we
saw it for the first time in all its true grandeur. A vast sphere of
glowing light, of incandescent gases, it flamed before us like some
inconceivably titanic sun, reaching from horizon to horizon, stunning
in its very magnitude. Up and outward from the great fiery globe there
soared vast tongues of flaming gas, mighty prominences of incalculable
length, leaping out from the gigantic spinning sphere. For the sphere,
the nebula, was spinning. We saw that, now, and could mark the turning
of its vast surface by the position of those leaping tongues, and
though that turning seemed slow to our eyes by reason of the nebula's
very vastness, we knew that in reality it was whirling at a terrific
rate.
For a long time there was silence in the little pilot room while we
three gazed ahead, the glowing light from the vast nebula before us
beating in through the broad window and illuminating all about us in
its glare. At last Sar Than, beside me, spoke.
"One sees now why no interstellar ship has ever dared to approach the
nebula," he said, his eyes on the colossal sea of flame before us.
I nodded at the Arcturian's comment. "Only our own ship would dare to
come as close as we are now," I told him. "The temperature outside is
hundreds of degrees, now." And I pointed toward a dial that recorded
the outside heat.
"But how near can we go to it?" asked Jor Dahat. "How much heat can our
cruiser stand?"
"Some thousands of degrees," I said, answering the plant-man's last
question first. "We can venture within a few thousand miles of the
nebula's surface without danger, I think. But if we were to go farther,
if we were to plunge into its fires, even our ship could not resist the
tremendous heat there for long, and would perish in a few minutes. We
will be able, though, to skim above the surface without danger."
"You plan to do that, to search above the nebula's surface for the
forces that have set it spinning?" asked the Capellan, and I nodded.
"Yes. There may be great ether-currents of some kind there which are
responsible for this spin, or perhaps other forces of which we know
nothing. If we can only find what is causing it, there will be at
least a chance----" And I was silent, gazing thoughtfully toward the
far-flung raging fires ahead.
* * * * *
Now, as our ship raced on toward that mighty ocean of flaming gas,
the pointer on the outside-heat dial was creeping steadily forward,
though the ship's interior was but slightly warmer, due to the
super-insulation of its walls. We were passing into a region of heat,
we knew, that would have destroyed any ship but our own, and that
thought held us silent as our humming craft raced on. And now the
sky before us, a single vast expanse of glowing flame, was creeping
downward across our vision as the cruiser's bow swung up. Minutes more,
and the whole vast flaming nebula lay stretched beneath us, instead of
before us, and then we were dropping smoothly down toward it.
Down we fell, my hand on the control lever gradually decreasing our
speed, now moving at a single light-speed, now at half of that, and
still slower and slower, until at last our craft hung motionless a
scant thousand miles above the nebula's flaming surface, a tiny atom
in size compared to the colossal universe of fire above which it
hovered. For from horizon to horizon beneath us, now, stretched the
nebula, in terrible grandeur. Its flaming sea, we saw, was traversed by
great waves and currents, currents that met here and there in gigantic
fiery maelstroms, while far across its surface we saw, now and then,
great leaping prominences or geysers of flaming gas, that towered
for an instant to immense heights and then rushed back down into the
fiery sea beneath. To us, riding above that burning ocean, it seemed
at that moment that in all the universe was only flame and gas, so
brain-numbing was the fiery nebula's magnitude.
Hanging there in our little cruiser we stared down at it, the awe we
felt reflected in each other's eyes. I saw now by the dial that the
temperature about us was truly terrific, over a thousand degrees, and
what it might be in the raging fires below I could not guess. But
nowhere was there any sign of what might have set the great nebula to
spinning, for our instruments recorded no ether-disturbances around
the surface, nor any other phenomena which might give us a clue. And,
looking down, I think that we all felt, indeed, that nothing was in
reality capable of affecting in any way this awesome nebula, the
vastest thing in all our universe.
At last I turned to the others. "There's nothing here," I said.
"Nothing to show what's caused the nebula's spinning. We must go on,
across its surface----"
With the words I reached forward toward the control levers, then
abruptly whirled around as there came a sudden cry from Sar Than, at
the window.
"Look!" cried the Arcturian, pointing down through the window, his eyes
starting. "Below us--look!"
I gazed down, then felt the blood drive from my heart at what I saw.
For directly beneath us one of the vast prominences of flaming gas was
suddenly shooting up from the nebula's surface, straight toward us,
a gigantic tongue of fire beside which our ship was but as a midge
beside a great blaze. I shouted, sprang to the controls, but even as I
laid hands on the levers there was a tremendous rush of blinding flame
all about our ship, and then we three had been flung violently into
a corner of the pilot room and the cruiser was being whirled blindly
about with lightning speed by the vast current of flaming gas that had
gripped it.
All about us was the thunderous roaring of the fires that held us, and
now as we sprawled helpless on the room's floor I sensed that our ship
was falling, plunging down with the downward-sinking geyser of flame
that held it. Struggling to gain my feet, while the pilot room spun
dizzily about me, I glimpsed through the shifting fires outside the
window the nebula's flaming surface, just below us, a raging sea of
fiery gas toward which we were dropping plummetlike. Then, as a fresh
gyration of the plunging ship flung me once more to the floor, I heard
the thundering roar about us suddenly intensified, terrible beyond
expression, while now through the window was visible only a single
solid mass of blinding flame, and while our cruiser at the same moment
rocked and whirled crazily beneath the impetus of a dozen different
forces. And as understanding of what had happened flashed across my
brain I cried out hoarsely to my two companions.
"The nebula!" I cried. "That current that held us has sucked us down
into the nebula itself!"
All about us now was only one tremendous sheet of fire, whose heat was
rapidly penetrating through even our heat-resistant walls and windows.
Swiftly the air in the little pilot room was becoming hot, suffocating,
and already the walls were burning to the touch. The ship, I knew,
could not stand such heat for many minutes more, yet every moment was
taking us farther into the nebula's fiery depths, whirling us wildly
on with velocity inconceivable. Born by its mighty interior currents
we were sweeping on and on into that universe of flame, its vast fires
roaring about us like the thunder of doom, deafening, awful, a cosmic,
bellowing clamor that was like the mighty shouting of a universe made
vocal.
On and on it roared, about us, and on and on we whirled into the depths
of those mighty fires, toward our doom. The air had become stifling,
unbreathable, and the walls were beginning to glow dully. Now, with
a last effort, I dragged myself from support to support until I had
clutched the control levers, opening them to the last notch. Yet though
the generators beneath hummed with highest power it was as though
they were silent, for in the grip of the nebula's giant fire-currents
the cruiser plunged madly on. And as its whirling catapulted me again
to the room's corner, where my two companions clung, I felt my lungs
scorching with each panting breath, felt my senses leaving me.
Then, through the unconsciousness that was creeping upon me, I heard
a grating wrench from somewhere in the cruiser's walls, a loud and
ominous cracking, and knew that under the terrific fires around us
those walls were already warping, giving way. Another wrenching crack
came, and another, sounding loud in my ears above the thunderous roar
of the flames about us. In a moment the walls would give completely,
and in the rushing fires of the nebula about us we would meet the end.
In a moment----
But what was that? The thunderous clamor about us had suddenly
dwindled, ceased, and at the same moment our ship had righted itself,
was humming serenely on. Slowly I raised my head, then stared in utter
astonishment. The fires outside the windows, the terrific sea of flame
about us, had vanished, and we were again flashing on through open
space. And now Jor Dahat beside me had seen also, and was rising to his
feet.
"We're out of the nebula!" he cried. "That current must have taken us
back up to the surface--back out into space again----"
He was at the window now, gazing eagerly out, while I struggled up in
turn. And as I did so I saw awe falling upon his face as he gazed, and
heard from him a whispered exclamation of utter astonishment. Then I,
too, was on my feet, with Sar Than, and we were at the window beside
him, staring forth in turn.
* * * * *
My first impression was of vast space, a colossal reach of space that
stretched far away before us, and into which our ship was racing on.
And then I saw, with sudden awe and wonder, that this vast space was
not the unlimited, unbounded space we were accustomed to, but was
limited, was bounded, bounded by a colossal sheet of flowing flame that
hemmed it in in all directions. Above and below and before and behind
us stretched this mighty wall of flame, a gigantic shell of fire that
enclosed within itself the vast space in which our cruiser raced, a
space large enough to hold within it a dozen solar systems like my own.
Stunned, we gazed out into that mighty flame-bounded space, and then I
flung out a hand toward it in sudden comprehension.
"We're inside the nebula!" I cried. "It's hollow! This vast open space
lies at its heart, and those currents carried us down into it!"
For I saw now that this was the explanation. Unsuspected by any in the
Galaxy the mighty nebula was hollow, its gigantic globe of flaming gas
holding at its heart this mighty empty space, a space mighty in extent
to our eyes, but small compared to the thickness of the great shell
of fire that enclosed it. And down through that fire, that vast ocean
of flame, the currents of the nebula had brought us, from its outer
surface, down into this great space at its heart of which none had ever
dreamed, and into which we had been the first in all the Galaxy to
penetrate.
While we gazed across it, stunned, our cruiser was racing on into
this vast hollow, away from the wall of flame behind us from which we
had just emerged. And now, as we flashed on, Sar Than cried out too,
and pointed ahead. There, standing out black against the encircling
walls of fire in the distance, was a small round spot, a spot that was
growing to a black globe as we hurtled on toward it, a globe that hung
motionless at the center of this mighty space, here at the nebula's
heart. We were racing straight into the great cavity toward it, and now
there came a low exclamation from Jor Dahat, beside me, as his eyes
took in the great globe ahead.
"A planet!" he whispered. "A planet here--within the nebula!"
My own eyes were fixed upon it, and slowly I nodded, but made no other
answer as we flashed on toward the object of our attention, the black
sphere ahead. And now as we swept on we saw that it was a sphere of
truly titanic dimensions, larger by far than any of the Galaxy's
countless worlds, and that as it hung there, at the nebula's heart,
it was slowly revolving, spinning, as fast or faster than the nebula
itself. Black and mighty it hung there, while all around it, millions
of miles from it, there flamed the nebula's encircling fires. On and on
we raced toward it, and for all those minutes of flashing flight none
of us spoke, and there was no sound in the pilot room but the throbbing
drone of the generators below. I think that we all felt instinctively
that in the grim, colossal globe ahead lay the answer to what we had
come to solve, and as we hurtled on toward it we watched it broadening
before us in tense silence.
Larger and larger it was becoming, larger until its great black circle
filled half the heavens before us. By then I had decreased our speed to
a fraction of its former figure, and as we swept in toward the giant
world I lessened it still further. Slowly, ever more slowly we moved,
and now were circling above the great black planet, were beginning
to drop cautiously down toward it. Eagerly we watched as the mighty
world's surface changed from convex to concave, and as we dropped on we
saw the needle of our atmosphere-pressure dial moving steadily forward,
to show that this strange world had air, at least. Then all else was
forgotten as our eyes took in the scene below.
I think that we had all half expected to see some evidence of life
and civilization on this strange world, some building or group of
buildings, at least. But there was none such. Beneath us lay only a
smooth black plain, extending from horizon to horizon, devoid of hill
or stream or valley, in so far as we could see, unnaturally smooth and
level. And as we dropped nearer, ever nearer, the surprize we felt
rapidly intensified, until when at last we hung motionless a hundred
feet above the surface of this world exclamations of utter astonishment
broke from us. For seen thus near, the surface of this mighty planet
was as utterly smooth and level as it had seemed from high above, a
black, gleaming plain without an inch-high elevation or depression, an
inconceivably strange smooth expanse of black _metal_, that stretched
evenly away in every direction to the horizon, smoothly covering this
colossal world.
We looked at each other, a little helplessly, then down again toward
the smooth and gleaming surface below. In that surface was no visible
opening, no sign of joint or crack, even, nothing but the smooth blank
metal. Then with sudden resolution I thrust forward the levers in my
hands, sent our cruiser racing low across the surface of the giant,
metal-sheathed planet, while we gazed intently across that surface in
search of any sign that might explain the enigma of its existence. On
we sped, while beneath us flashed back the smooth metal plain, mile
after endless mile. Then, gazing ahead, my eyes suddenly narrowed and I
raised a pointing hand. For there, far ahead, I had glimpsed an opening
in the gleaming surface, a round black opening that was resolving
itself into a vast circular pit as our cruiser raced on toward it.
Nearer and nearer we flashed toward it, with Sar Than and Jor Dahat
beside me gazing forward, their interest as tense as my own. And now we
saw that the pit was of gigantic size, its circular mouth all of five
miles in diameter, and that from its center there drove up toward the
zenith a flickering beam of pale and ghostlike white light, so pale as
hardly to be visible, a livid white ray that stabbed straight up toward
the fires of the nebula far above. We were very near to the pale beam,
now, flashing above the huge pit straight toward it. I had a glimpse
of the great pit's perpendicular black metal walls, dropping down for
miles into depths inconceivable, of something in those dusky depths
that burned like a great white star of light, and then Jor Dahat
suddenly uttered a choking cry, flinging an arm out toward the livid
ray before us.
"That ray!" he cried. "It's not light--it's force! The nebula--stop the
ship!"
At that cry my hand flew out to the levers, but a moment too late. For
before I could throw them back, could slow or stay our progress, we had
raced straight into the great pale beam. The next moment there came a
terrific crash, as though we had collided with a solid wall; our ship
rocked drunkenly in midair for a single instant, and then was whirling
crazily downward into the depths of the mighty pit below us.
3
My only memory now of that mad plunge downward is of the pilot room
spinning about me, and of the whistling roar of winds outside caused
by the speed of our fall. The shock of our collision had apparently
silenced our generators, and it was moments before I could struggle
up to the controls and make an effort to start them. I jerked open
the switches and there came a hum of power from beneath; but the next
moment with a jarring, grinding shock our cruiser had met the great
pit's floor, flinging us once more to the floor.
For a moment we lay motionless there, and in that moment I became aware
of sounds outside, soft rustling sounds that were hardly audible, as of
soft-footed creatures moving about. The second shock had again silenced
the vibration-mechanism, which I had started the moment before our
crash, but I had no doubt that it was only that last-minute action on
my part that had slowed our fall enough to save our ship and ourselves
from annihilation. Now, staggering to my feet, I reached for the switch
of the pilot room's little emergency door, sending it sliding back,
admitting a rush of warm, fresh air, and then with my two companions
behind me stared dazedly forth.
Our battered cruiser was resting now on the great pit's floor, a vast
circular plain of smooth metal five miles in diameter, enclosed on all
sides by vertical cliffs of gleaming metal that loomed for miles above
us. A dusky twilight reigned here at the great shaft's bottom, but we
saw now that that bottom was covered with countless great machines,
enigmatic, shining mechanisms that covered the pit's floor completely
except for a round clearing at its center, at the edge of which our
cruiser rested. From each of the massed machines around us ran a
slender tube-connection, and all of these tubes, thousands in number,
combined to form a thick black metal cable which led into a huge object
at the clearing's center. This was a giant squat cylinder of metal,
its height no more than fifty feet but its diameter a full thousand,
into the side of which the thick black cable led and whose upper
surface shone with a vast brilliant white light that half dispelled the
shadows here at the vast pit's bottom. It was from this brilliant upper
surface of the cylinder that there sprang upward the great livid ray,
a flickering beam of pale light that stabbed straight up toward the
glowing fires of the nebula far above.
It was not on the great cylinder or on the massed machines around us,
though, that our eyes first rested, but on the shapes, the creatures,
who had gathered about our cruiser and stood before us. They were
creatures of surpassing strangeness and horror, even to ourselves,
unlike in form as we were. Each of them was simply a shapeless
mass of plastic white flesh, several feet in thickness, a formless
thing of pale flesh without limbs or features of any kind, the only
distinguishing mark being a round black spot on the body or mass of
each. A dozen or more of them had gathered before us. A dozen shapeless
masses of flesh resting on the smooth metal floor there, each with
the black spot on his body turned up toward us like some strange eye,
which, we knew instinctively, it in reality was.
As we watched them in horror, we saw one of them suddenly move toward
us across the smooth metal. A limbless mass of flesh, he glided across
the level floor as a snake might glide, the flesh of him flexing and
twisting to bear him smoothly forward. Just beneath us he stopped, and
there was a moment of tense silence while the whole scene impressed
itself indelibly on my brain--the vast, metal-walled pit, the great
ghostly ray that clove up through its shadowy dusk toward the nebula
far above, the weird white masses of flesh before us. Then up from
the creature below us there shot a long, slender arm, an arm that
formed itself out of the flesh of his--_body_--like the pseudopod of a
jellyfish, reaching swiftly upward toward us.
That sight was enough to break the spell of horror that had held us,
and with a strangled cry I fell back from the door, reached toward the
controls to send our ship slanting up out of this place of horror. But
as I did so there came a shout from my two companions, and I whirled
around to see a half-dozen pseudopod arms reach in through the open
door, and then by that grip six or more of the weird creatures had
drawn themselves up into the pilot room, and were upon us.
I felt cold, boneless arms twine swiftly around my neck and body,
struck out in blind rage against the twisting masses of flesh that
held me, and then felt my arms gripped also, felt myself being carried
toward the door. The next moment I had been swung smoothly down to
the metal floor below and released there, standing panting with my
two companions while our strange captors surveyed us. Several of them
held in pseudopod arms little square boxes of metal which they held
toward us, and one of them, as if for an object lesson, turned his
toward a little pile of metal bars not far away, and touched a switch
in its handle. Instantly a narrow little jet of what resembled thick
blue smoke sprang out of the thing toward the pile of bars, and as it
touched them I saw them instantly crumbling and disintegrating like
sugar in water, disappearing entirely in a moment. The meaning of the
action was plain enough, and with a half-dozen of the deadly things
trained full upon us we gave up all thoughts of a dash back to the
cruiser.
Now the foremost of the creatures seemed to undergo a series of swift
changes in shape, his plastic body twisting and changing from one
strange form to another with inconceivable rapidity. After a moment of
this protean changing his body settled back into its former shapeless
mass, but as it did so three of the creatures behind him came forward
toward us, as though in answer to a silent command. I was later to
learn, what I half guessed at the moment, that it was by these swift
changes in bodily shape that the creatures communicated with each
other, each such change, however slight, carrying to them as much
meaning as a change of accent in spoken speech does to us.
The three that had come forward each held in a pseudopod arm one of the
deadly box-weapons, and now they placed themselves around us, one in
front and the other two behind us. Then they motioned eloquently toward
the left, and after a moment's hesitation we set off in that direction,
around the clearing's edge. Past the looming machines we went, my
own eyes intent on the huge cylinder in the clearing beside us, from
which arose the great ray of impenetrable force into which our ship had
crashed. Through the twilight that reigned about us I saw that only
a handful of these nebula-creatures were to be seen on all the pit's
floor, and wondered momentarily at the smallness of their numbers. Then
my speculations were driven from my mind as our guards suddenly halted
us, several hundred feet around the clearing's edge from our cruiser.
Before us there yawned a round, dark opening in the smooth floor, a
small, shaftlike pit some ten feet in diameter, its sides disappearing
down into a dense darkness. As we stared, the guard before us glided
to the shaft's edge and suddenly swung himself over that edge,
disappearing from view. And as we stepped closer we saw that he was
lowering himself down the shaft's smooth metal wall by means of metal
pegs inset every few feet in that wall, dropping from peg to peg in
smooth, effortless descent. Now our two remaining guards raised their
weapons significantly, motioning toward the shaft. Choice of action
there was none, so after a moment's involuntary hesitation I stepped
to the edge and grasped the highest peg, swinging myself over the edge
and down until I had found a foot-hold on a lower peg, then shifting my
grasp to swing down again in the same manner. After me came Jor Dahat,
and after him the plant-man Sar Than, who swung easily down by grasping
the pegs with all of his four limbs. Then the two guards were swinging
down after him, and we were dropping steadily down the line of pegs
into the rayless darkness.
* * * * *
I think now that of all the journeys in the universe that journey
of ours down the shaft was the strangest. Plant-man and human and
Arcturian, three different beings from three far-distant stars, we
swung down that dizzy ladder into the dark depths of this strange world
at the fiery nebula's heart, guarded above and below by formless beings
of weirdness unutterable. Down we clambered, feeling blindly in the
darkness for our hand and foot-holds, down until at last, far below,
there appeared a faint little spot of white light in the darkness.
The spot of light grew stronger, larger, as we climbed down toward it,
until finally we saw that we were nearing the shaft's bottom, at which
it gleamed. A few minutes more and we had clambered down the last peg
and stood at the bottom of the shaft, a dark, circular well of metal
pierced in one side by a doorway through which came the dim white
light. Then we were bunched together once more between our guards, and
were marched through the door into a long corridor dimly lit by a few
globes of lambent white light suspended from its ceiling. As we marched
along this long, metal-walled corridor I wondered how far beneath the
great pit's floor we were, estimating by the length of our downward
climb that it must be thousands of feet, at least. Then my thoughts
shifted as there came from ahead a deep humming, beating sound, and a
gleam of stronger light.
Before us now lay the end of the corridor, a square of brilliant white
light toward which we were marching. We reached it, were passing
through it, and then we halted in our tracks in sheer, stunned
astonishment. For before us there stretched a vast open space, or
cavern, of gigantic dimensions, its floor and sides and ceiling of
smooth black metal, brilliantly illuminated by scores of the lambent
globes of light. For thousands of feet before and above us stretched
the great space, and in it was a scene of clamorous activity that was
stunning after the darkness and silence through which we had come.
Ranged on the mighty cavern's floor were long rows of machines the
purposes of which were beyond our speculation, incredibly intricate
masses of great arms and cogs and eccentric wheels all working smoothly
with a steady beat-beat-beat of power, and tended by countless numbers
of the formless nebula-creatures among them. Some seemed to be
ventilating-machines of a sort, with great tubes leading upward through
the cavern's ceiling; from others streams of white-hot metal gushed out
into molds, cooling instantly into wheels and squares and bars; still
others appeared to be connected with the great globes of light above;
and some there were, like great domed turtles of metal, that moved here
and there about the cavern's floor, reaching forth great pincer-arms to
grip stacks of bars and plates and carry them from place to place.
Only a moment we stared across that scene of amazing activity before
our guards were again motioning us onward, across the cavern's
floor. Between the aisles of looming mechanisms we marched, whose
formless attendants seemed not to heed us as we passed them. Before
and around us glided the great turtle-machines with their burdens,
the humming of their operation adding to the medley of sounds about
us, only the shapeless nebula-creatures being completely silent. And
as we marched on I saw in the great cavern's distant walls doors and
corridors leading away to other vast brilliant-lit caverns that I
could but vaguely glimpse, extending away in every direction, a great,
half-seen vista of mighty white-lit spaces reaching away all about us,
stupendous, incredible. And as we went on we saw other narrow shafts
in the floor like that down which we had come, saw swarms of the
nebula-creatures rising from and descending into those shafts by the
pegs set in their sides, moving ceaselessly up and down from whatever
other vast spaces might lie beneath us in this titanic, honeycombed
world.