Betrayed
The worst enemies make the staunchest allies. That old truism never
proved itself more surely than to Gary Lane and his comrades in the
ensuing days. Those same Jovians who, considering them enemies, had
been swift to condemn them to death with but a travesty of trial now,
allied to their cause, proved themselves most eager of aides.
While technicians hastened to equip the _Liberty_ with that secret
device which would enable the ship to project itself through
quadridimensional space to the ulterior universe, other craftsmen
labored diligently to refurbish the ship, check its armaments, and
render it in all ways completely shipshape for the journey to follow.
Nor made the Jovians any effort to conceal that which was being done
aboard the _Liberty_. They worked openly, their engineers offering
painstaking explanations of the device's operation to those who
cared to learn. And, of course this number was great. Almost all the
_Liberty's_ personnel was eager to learn the secret of that novel
flight method which was to henceforth govern their ship. As the sublime
simplicity of the plan revealed itself physicists and spacemen alike
were awed.
"Not so much," said Captain Hugh Warren wonderingly, "at the method
itself as at the fact that nobody ever thought of it before. Why, when
you hear it explained it's like child's play!"
Dr. Bryant smiled thinly. "And is that not always true of great
inventions? The wheel, the steam engine, the gasoline motor, the rocket
drive--all these things seemed simple commonplaces to the civilizations
which used them. But each was, to a former civilization which knew it
not, a mystery at once profound and obscure. So it is with the Jovian
fourth-dimensional drive.
"I venture to predict that in the future days--if, that is, we
successfully accomplish our mission--it will become the standard method
of space travel. Its advantages are obvious. Instantaneous transfer
of objects from one spot to another ... why, just think! Tomorrow's
earthman may eat for breakfast fresh budberries plucked that morning
from the marshes of Venus, covered with milk shipped short hours ago
from a Martian dairy ranch!"
"All of which," said the little steward, Herby Hawkins apologetically,
"sounds mighty good, guv'nor. And maybe this here now device is, like
you say, child's play. But--beggin' your pardon, sir--I still don't get
it. 'Ow can a ship get so fast from one plyce to another? Almost like
it was in two plyces at the same time?"
"Why," explained Dr. Bryant professorially, "simply by contracting into
contigual adjacency two _loci_ of the continuum--"
* * * * *
"Excuse me a minute, Doctor," grinned Gary. "Maybe I can explain it
in a way Hawkins will understand more easily. You see, Hawkins, it's
like this. I draw two circles on this piece of paper--" He sketched
rapidly--"Now, let us suppose you are a two-dimensional creature living
in this universe, which we will call 'Flatland.' You are on _this_
world and you wish to travel to _that_ one. How would you go about it?"
"Naturally," said Hawkins, "this way." And he drew his finger laterally
between the two "worlds." "A stryte line bein' the shortest distance
between two points--"
"Of course," said Gary. "And being a Flatlander you would have
neither knowledge nor comprehension of any swifter way of making a
journey than to traverse the broad width of the sheet. However,
_three_-dimensional creatures like ourselves can immediately see a
still shorter and easier way of traveling from one sphere to the other.
We would simply--" He picked up the sheet of paper and folded it so the
two worlds lay adjacent--"_We_ would simply create a two-dimensional
space warp through the third dimension."
"Well, blimey!" said Hawkins.
"To complete the analogy," Gary went on, "that is what the Jovians have
done ... only working in _four_ dimensions rather than three.
"Everyone knows magnetic matter warps space. Einstein proved that way
back in the early days of the Twentieth Century. So the scientists of
Jupiter have invented a machine which, setting up a highly magnetized
flux field, warps three-dimensional space in the direction of the
flight they wish to make. Their 'ends of the paper' fold together ...
and when the warping machine is again disengaged you are where you want
to be. It's as easy as that."
"It's as easy as that--" Hawkins gulped and ran a finger under his
uniform collar. "Yes, sir. Now that you point it out, it's all very
clear, sir. Ridic'lously simple, if I might say so. So, completely
comprehendin' the sitchyation, I'll be gettin' back to my work now,
sir ... if you don't mind." And he disappeared.
* * * * *
But if Gary Lane found it easy to explain the operation of the Jovian
space warp, he found it not quite so easy to explain other facets of
the blue-skinned race's psychology.
It was baffling, for instance, to find himself confronted with smiles
when, fearful of mishap, he warned the Jovian technicians against
tampering with Earth's jealously guarded hypatomic unit.
"You must be very careful. The hypos are protected with devices which
will cause them to explode if tampered with."
The chief technician smiled pleasantly.
"Yes," he said, "they were, weren't they?"
"I'm sorry," apologized Gary, "but there's nothing I can do about it.
What! _Were?_ I don't understand. Do you mean--?"
"We've drawn the dragon's teeth. Yes, of course. We had to in order to
install our own equipment."
"But how--?"
"Another useful trick," smiled the Jovian, "of fourth dimensional
science. It was a simple matter to reach our instruments into sealed
chambers and cut the wires connecting the explosive fuses."
That, young Dr. Lane could see clearly, was quite true. It would be no
harder for mechanics working with quadridimensional tools to perform
this observation than for a tri-dimensional bank robber to remove the
contents of a Flatland safe.
But there was a corollary to this revelation. Gary said slowly,
"Then ... then that means you now understand the operation of the
hypatomic motor."
The other nodded casually. "Why, yes. And most ingenious, too."
"What do you plan to do with your knowledge?"
"Why," said the Jovian frankly, "I think it would be a very good idea
to expose it openly to the races of every solar planet. Earth has
held its monopoly on spaceflight long enough. I think, don't you,
it's almost time _all_ the worlds were given the right to free and
competitive commerce?"
Gary grinned, a warm admiration for this people suffusing him. And:
"I think," he agreed, "you are absolutely right."
* * * * *
All these were interludes. There were others, too: amusing,
entertaining, beguiling. Because now, on the eve of what must assuredly
be their last and most perilous journey, almost to a last man the
argonauts of the _Liberty_ were having a last fling at such pleasures
as presented themselves.
And in truth, there was much to be done, many beauties to be seen on
Jupiter.
For the entertainment of the Earthmen was planned an expedition to
the Flaming Sea, that weird chemical phenomenon of cold light whose
shimmering, ruddy reflection, viewed by Earth's telescopes centuries
ago through the filtering layers of Jupiter's foggy shroud, had caused
Earth scientists to ponder on the nature of the "Red Spot."
On this trip almost all the _Liberty's_ personnel embarked, gay and
carefree as youngsters gone a-picnicking. Lark O'Day, arm linked
through that of his now-constant companion, the shy and quiet Pen-N'hi,
came bridgeward to urge Gary on the trip.
"Oh, come along, Lane!" he coaxed. "Come along and have some fun. A man
can't work _all_ the time."
Gary said with sincere regret, "I'm sorry, Lark, but I can't. I have
to help the engineers complete their installation. And there are some
final computations to be made yet--"
Nora Powell, who had been standing in the background pleaded almost
wistfully, "But it would be _so_ much fun, Gary. They say the Flaming
Sea is one of the most beautiful sights in the galaxy. One of the seven
wonders of the universe."
"I know it. But I'm up to my ears--"
The girl said almost hopefully, it seemed, "Then, maybe I'd better stay
with you? Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"
But Gary shook his head. "No, you run along. Hugh, you look out for
Nora. See that she has a good time."
Warren, grinning broadly, moved forward to link his arm in that of the
girl. "Sure will, pal. The pleasure's all mine."
So, in the end, all the adventurers save two took the sightseeing
trip. Those two were Gary Lane and the elderly Eurasian scientist, Dr.
Anjers, who had courteously excused himself.
"When one reaches my age, my friends, one loses interest in romantic
surroundings. No, I shall remain here to be of what assistance I can to
Dr. Lane."
And of assistance he was. For it was he whose adroit questioning of the
Jovian engineers finally brought clarity to a question whose answer had
been often hinted but never answered. As the workmen put the finishing
touches on the warping unit's installation he asked, "And just what,
gentlemen, are the limitations of this device ... the usage to which it
may not safely be put? Your Councillor, Kushra, gave us to understand
that there was a certain amount of peril inherent to its use."
* * * * *
The chief technician frowned. "That is right. However, we have taken
all safety factors into consideration. In reaching your destination, if
the dials and verniers are not changed from the settings which we have
established, you will not experience the slightest difficulty--"
"But just what," asked Gary, "is the nature of this danger?"
"Simply that through an improper setting of the dials you might
end your journey in some place quite unlike that which was your
destination. In other words, if this central vernier were twisted to
the right by so much as one degree the _Liberty's_ flight might end
not, as intended, within the solar galaxy of the star Sirius ... but
within the burning heart of the star itself."
Gary frowned uneasily. "The only consolation to that thought is that if
such a thing happened none of us would ever know anything about it."
"Quite true. The _Liberty_ and all aboard would be instantaneously
seared to a clinker by the inconceivable heat of a star thousands of
times greater than our little sun."
"Why, then," asked Dr. Anjers, "employ control verniers at all? Why not
simply set and lock the controls upon the desired objective?"
The Jovian smiled. "Have you forgotten, sir, that when your mission is
ended you will wish to return home? Then the new course and trajectory
must be calculated and the verniers reset. That is why it is necessary
we install a complete unit and train you in its use."
The scientist said petulantly, "Despite all these precautions it is a
fool-hardy trip. It would be safer, to my way of thinking, to visit a
nearer star ... say Proxima Centauri ... thereby diminishing the risk
of over or undershooting our mark.
"Sometimes," he bridled, "I think this whole scheme is madness. It is
ridiculous to think of us, tiny mites that we are, daring to attack the
people of a universe so infinitely greater than ours that we will be as
dust motes beneath their crushing heels!"
Gary stared at the little man curiously. "People greater than us, Dr.
Anjers? Now, that's a peculiar thought. Whatever makes you say--"
Anjers wriggled in sudden defiant embarrassment. "It was not my idea,
Dr. Lane, but your own. It was you who advanced the theory that our
universe is dwindling. It follows as a natural corollary that any race
existing _outside_ our universe--"
Gary nodded. "Why, yes, I suppose you're right. But I'd never stopped
to think of it in quite that way. A race of giants--"
But the little man's words had had an even more striking effect upon
the Jovian engineer. He said excitedly, "A great race? A race of
giants? That's strange. There is a legend among our people that once,
countless centuries ago, our forefathers were mighty men who clashed in
brutal conflict with a race of giants."
[Illustration: The Liberty's personnel embarked on an expedition to the
Flaming Sea.]
"Naturally," said Anjers curtly, "there would be such a fable. That
legend occurs not only in the mythology of _your_ race but in that of
every civilized planet. Earth's theosophy speaks of Gog and Magog, the
giants who lived before men.[9] The Venusian folk-tales sing of an
ancient battle of Titans. The Martians tell of a day when giants warred.
[Footnote 9: Gog and Magog: according to the old Erse records, these
were the names of two races which waged a tremendous warfare ages
ago ... the conclusion of which conflict was "the loss of Magog and the
banishment of Gog."--_Ed._]
"Such myths are easily explained. They are simply barbaric
nature-myths; explanations of the recurring solstice, the battle
between the giants of summer heat and winter cold."
But the Jovian said somewhat haughtily. "_Ours_ is no folk tale of a
barbaric people, Doctor. Our race was old when yours still roamed the
jungles of its native world. Our written history is based on fact,
not fancy. And it is strange that you should speak now of a race of
giants...."
Gary Lane held his peace. Yet, he, too, was oddly troubled by this new
and disturbing thought.
* * * * *
But all things end at last, even hours of impatient waiting. And it
was shortly thereafter that the installation of the Jovian machine was
completed. So, at last, their adventure appropriately feasted, their
success prayerfully toasted, the _Liberty's_ complement prepared to set
forth on the final leg of their journey.
All hands were aboard, all stations manned, and in the control turret
stood those upon whose efforts depended not only the success of this
mission but the very existence of the universe.
It was a great moment, one calculated to not only lift with pride the
heart of the humblest person, but to instill humility into the heart
of the most prideful. A strange silence fell over the little group, a
silence finally broken by Hugh Warren.
"Well ... all ready, Gary?"
Gary nodded. "Yes. You understand the operation of the Jovian
machinery?"
"Yes, I press this first button ... the green one ... allow fifteen
minutes for the motors to warm and the space warp to develop, then
press the red button. Right?"
"Right," said Gary. He looked around at his friends, then bent his head
in a swift, decisive nod. "Here we go, folks. High, low, jack and game!"
Warren's finger touched the green button.
Nothing happened.
That is, nothing _seemed_ to happen. The _Liberty's_ hypos were cut.
There sounded through the ship not even that dim, familiar, whining
undertone which was its usual accompaniment of generating speed. There
was no sensation of flight, no hurtling shock of acceleration, no
grip of suddenly intensified gravity. No intraspatial weightlessness.
Nothing.
For a moment the wayfarers stared at each other with speculative eyes.
Could it be the Jovian invention was, after all, a failure. Did they
still lie in their cradle on Pangré spaceport.
As if to solve this question, Lark O'Day pressed the stud which opened
the vision plate to the outer hull. And what appeared thereon finally
dissolved all doubts. It was not _what_ they saw but what they did
_not_ see which offered clinching evidence of the fourth dimensional
drive's effectiveness.
Because it was no spaceport over which they looked, nor jet space
spangled with the colorful burning of a myriad stars. Instead, there
reflected on the vision plate before them a blank, gray, writhing
_nothingness_. Just that. The soul of an emptiness beyond space and
time, beyond color and form and life.
It was a vista terrible to look upon, awful to consider. Gary Lane
drew a short uneven breath. "Well, take a good look, folks," he said.
"There it is. The world between the worlds. The universe between the
universes. The unfathomable fourth dimension."
Then, amazingly, came a burst of giggling laughter from one of their
party. From the mirth-contorted lips of their Eurasian scientist
companion, Dr. Boris Anjers.
"Yes," babbled Anjers triumphantly, "look long and well, little fools,
while yet you may. For when that mist passes your puny efforts will end
in flaming oblivion. That all too brief gray pall is--your shroud of
death!"