Professor Reuter explained. "To tell the truth there was some
discussion at that time. I am afraid I must confess myself considerably
at fault. Dr. Perkins at that time urged that the expedition return
and install quartz ports on the _Goddard_. At that time I judged the
temperature would be about what it is, minus 200, and at that figure
fluorine would not be present in the liquid portion of the atmosphere,
but would exist as a gas, and therefore would not make contact with our
ports while diving."
"I warned you it would be in solution," remarked Dr. Perkins.
"Yes." Professor Reuter, a big man, with folds of fat hanging from his
cheeks, pursed his lips and blew through them. "At the time, I must
confess, I really must confess, that I failed to consider the fact that
the enveloping upper atmosphere of the planet would cause the surface
temperature to be lower than that in the atmosphere itself. As a
result, it is just cold enough to hold a certain amount of fluorine in
solution in this cold ocean--"
"And, in a nut-shell, we must turn back," said Adam. He appealed to
Captain McCausland. "Isn't there anything aboard ship with which we
could insulate the ports?" Scientists always made difficulties, he
thought; an old space captain like McCausland would not be so hard to
down.
"We can try putting divers in space suits with double-thickness glass
in the ports. That would last a couple of hours at all events. I don't
doubt but we could get volunteers in _this_ crew."
Reuter blew through his thick lips again. "Dangerous. As scientific
head of the expedition I will permit nothing of the kind. Naturally,
Captain, we are under your orders, but if you take such a step it will
be without my authority."
McCausland made a gesture of hopelessness. "Have you any other ideas to
suggest, Mister Longworth?"
Was "Old Steel-Wall" giving up this easily? Adam's thoughts wheeled,
but he schooled himself to inquire mildly, "Have you thought of trying
mica windows, sir?"
"That would do it!" cried Dr. Perkins excitedly. "Fluorine doesn't
attack mica--at least at Earth temperatures. I don't know about these
sub-zero atmospheres, but it ought to work. Have we the mica?"
"The ship is lined with it," remarked McCausland. "But we can't very
well take the ship apart."
"Compartment eighteen, sir!" Adam burst out.
"Try it by all means: Hurry though, for we'll have to shutter the
ship's ports within an hour or get out of here. I congratulate you,
Mister Longworth. That was well thought of."
Was there a touch of irony in the voice? As Adam saluted and withdrew,
he wondered. Nobody else appeared to have noticed it, to have noticed
that there was something in the Captain's voice that didn't somehow
sound quite right.
* * * * *
Three men were grouped around the air lock at eighteen, and they looked
up as the First Mate approached. "He's coming out now, sir," said one
of them. "Been in already once, and Bjornsen fitted a mica shield over
one of his helmet ports. He's trying that and the straight glass shield
in comparison."
Adam nodded wordlessly, watching the lock handle. Presently it turned
and out stumbled a figure like a gnome, cased in hairy hoar-frost.
"Pretty cold out there," said one of the men, as with gloved fingers he
labored deftly at Burchall's helmet.
The little wizened face came out of it, grinning like a monkey's. "It
works, sir! I was in a good five minutes. Look here--the glass lens is
all pitted and scored, but the mica isn't touched. Something funny out
there in that ocean, though."
"What do you mean?"
"Something with legs, only they weren't exactly legs, either--"
"Careful with that space suit there, Jake. Material's brittle after
that cold."
Adam raised his voice. "Look here men. We have a job on our hands. We
must make and install port covers for every port on the ship. You know,
the regular collision covers--beryll-steel. Jake, go up forward and
get a dozen men, while you, Bjornsen, fix those mica covers on a dozen
space suit helmets. Make it snappy, for Heaven's sake. We have just one
hour to work in."
"Beg pardon, sir, but wouldn't it be easier to do it outside this
atmosphere?"
"Haven't the fuel. Hurry!"
The ship rang with orderly disorder, as man after man of the off-duty
watch reported, received the space suit with the new mica windows, and
passed out through the air-lock in compartment eighteen to join the
others who were adjusting protective collision-shutters over the big
ship's ports. The last man through, Adam embarked on an inspection tour
of the ship. Compartment 23 checked--all ports shuttered; compartment
22--
A bell rang violently, and the loudspeaker system shouted: "First Mate
Longworth wanted in the Captain's cabin at once. First Mate Longworth
wanted--"
"First Mate Longworth reporting," Adam remarked into his chest phone,
and hurried along the corridor.
Captain McCausland was seated at his desk, drumming on it with his
fingers. "Mister Mate," he burst out, as Adam entered, "do you know
what time it is?"
"No, sir."
The Captain indicated the space-chronometer set in the wall. "Your hour
is up. Call your men in. We're leaving."
"But, sir, they're nearly finished--"
"Mister Mate, I have taken the trouble to explain my orders to you once
before. I'll do it once more, so there will be no possible mistake.
I'm responsible for the safety of this expedition and the lives of
the people aboard. In the present case it's my responsibility to see
that this cold fluorine ocean doesn't eat through the ports and put
everyone to a horrible death, corroding as it freezes them--including
Miss de Vries. Call in your men. That's an order!"
Adam's mind filled suddenly with the picture of Paulette struggling
vainly to beat back the hideous icy wave of acid at a temperature lower
than anything on Earth, of.... He lifted his chest phone and spoke
slowly. "Working party outside; abandon work and return at once. Enter
by lock in compartment eighteen."
* * * * *
The sound of hammers and the grind of wrenches on the outer hull went
on uninterrupted. An expression of surprise spread across Adam's
face; Captain McCausland's darkened with anger. "First Mate Longworth
speaking! Did you hear me? Burchall, answer at once!"
Again that pause, punctuated only by the sound of tools. McCausland
lifted his own phone. "Burchall! Heinstatt! Captain McCausland
speaking! Answer at once." Again no reply but the mocking tap of
hammers. The Captain's face flushed darkly.
"Longworth, if this is more of your officiousness, I'll have your
badges! Mister Longworth, you will get into a space suit at once and
bring those men in. Knock them out if necessary."
Adam ran down the corridor toward the compartment eighteen air lock
thinking to himself that if this was a mutiny it came at the most
fortunate time for the success of the expedition. He took his time
donning the space suit, his time about entering the air lock and
turning on the pressure jets that would clear the way before him into
the icy ocean outside. Just as he was about to throw open the outer
door of the lock, the indicator on it moved, it was flung open from
the outside, and the first of the divers stumbled in, accompanied by a
rush of the icy sea that began immediately to vaporize in the warmer
space of the compartment. The clang of hammers outside sank to a tap,
then ceased altogether. The work was done! They could float on that
Plutonian sea for as long as necessary without danger.
When they were out of compartment eighteen's air lock again, with the
helmets off, Adam turned to Jake Burchall.
"Why didn't you answer me or Captain McCausland just now? Didn't you
know you could be sent to the mines on Mars for disobedience?"
"Didn't hear you, sir. You see, we was in such a hurry to get out that
we kind of forgot to put our radiophones on the helmets."
Before Adam could put another question the bell clamored for lunch.
* * * * *
Aboard the space-ship _Goddard_ the fiction of keeping up the normal
twenty-four-hour Earth day was maintained, and it was not till after
the meal called, by courtesy, lunch that Adam again faced Captain
McCausland across the desk of his cabin. Paulette de Vries was on the
Captain's other side as Adam entered and saluted stiffly.
"Your report, Mister Mate? I am anxious to learn why my orders weren't
obeyed."
"No radiophones on the suits, sir."
The Captain stared, taken aback. At last he nodded his acceptance of
the wholly reasonable explanation.
"Very well.... Glad you got the shutters installed in time. As matters
stand, then, we can remain here for some time. Professor Reuter reports
we are near one of the poles of this planet. We might as well start
exploring here as anywhere. Will you take the detail?"
Adam's face lighted. He hadn't expected a chance like this. "I'd be
delighted, sir," he began, and then, catching sight of Paulette's
slightly disdainful smile, broke off short.
"Very good. Take at least one good man with you. Professor Reuter says
the depth here is about sixty feet, which is the equivalent of thirty
feet on Earth, due to the difference in gravity. That is, the pressure
ought not to bother anyone in a space suit provided the depth is
constant. I'm sending you because you made good on that mica stunt. Now
here's your chance to do something bigger. You'll have complete charge
of whatever party you take."
"Mr. Longworth will enjoy that very much," remarked Paulette. "He likes
to take complete charge of things."
"I've noticed that," said McCausland, drawing down the corner of
his mouth. He reached into a drawer, and producing one of the ugly,
ungainly rocket-pistols, shoved it across the desk. "This thing fires
the new atomic shells. Pretty dangerous, as you probably know, but it's
about the only thing that will work in these liquid densities, and you
can't tell what you'll run into out there. Good luck!"
Adam saluted, and was just turning away when out of the corner of his
eye he caught sight of Paulette's face. It had gone suddenly rather
white, and her lips were slightly parted. He turned back to speak,
but the moment had passed, and contenting himself with an awkward
repetition of the salute he made his way out of the cabin.
* * * * *
Jake Burchall, responding to a call over the loud speaker system, found
him changing into the electrically warmed clothes used in the depths of
outer space.
"Want to come with me, Jake? An hour or so scouting along the ocean
floor. We'll be the first men to land on Pluto."
To his surprise, the wizened little man, instead of bursting into his
habitual giggle, looked thoughtful.
"What's the matter, Jake?"
"Nothin', Mr. Adam. I was just wonderin', that's all, if maybe you
volunteered for this, but I don't s'pose you'd care to tell."
"I don't mind telling you. Captain McCausland assigned me."
Burchall scratched his head, evidently seeking to choose his words.
"You think a mighty lot of him, don't you, Mr. Adam?"
Adam stopped dressing with a zipper half closed, his mouth open. "Why
sure! Ever since I was a kid--I remember being brought up on the story
of how Steel-Wall McCausland saved the Venus mail rocket, the time--"
"Yes, I know, Mr. Adam. But looky here, I'm goin' to tell you for your
own good, there some folks think Old Steel-Wall is a little bit too
smooth outside and too hard inside, and I ain't satisfied. There's some
mighty funny things goin' on. I don't like the way he called us in from
that port detail--and that there navigation around the planetoids--and
this here exploring trip--I'm just maybe a old fool, but I got my
ideas."
"Bunk, Jake. Captain McCausland has other people to think of, too...."
Adam's sentence trailed off as he remembered the Captain's willingness
to give up the expedition when they had landed on the wet surface of
Pluto. Could it be possible that the hero of his boyhood, the man
Paulette was going to marry--?
"What have you got there?" Jake Burchall's voice interrupted his chain
of thought. "I s'pose the Captain gave you that, too?" inquired the old
engineer, picking up the rocket pistol, and when Adam nodded. "Not for
mine, Mr. Adam. Them things is twict as dangerous to you as to whatever
you shoot 'em at. Come back there with me to the engine room. I got
some of those marble bombs stuck on long rods back there. When you poke
something with them, you know the explosion isn't going to blow you
into the middle of next week."
Cased like lobsters in their space suits the pair waddled clumsily up
the spiral ramp to the main outlet lock. The pair of duty men at the
lock swung the handles in a bored manner, and just as he was entering
Adam thought he caught another glimpse of Paulette around the corner of
the corridor, and raised one sheathed arm to wave her farewell, but she
did not answer.
"All right, Jake?" called Adam through the chest phone. There was a
series of clicks. "All right, Mr. Adam."
Adam swung the lock control and felt the grip of the pale ocean, colder
than anything on , sliding up around his legs, to his waist.
Another spin of the handle, and side by side the two were settling
gently through the opalescent depths toward the surface of Pluto.
* * * * *
Inside the ship, the lock attendants had gone off duty and the corridor
was for the moment empty. Paulette glanced at the pressure gauge, saw
that it registered a blank, which meant that the two had left the lock,
and then turned swiftly to look along the corridor. No one in sight.
"At least," Walter had said to her, "wait till those two come back.
You don't know what may be in that ocean out there--an ocean of liquid
air and fluorine. Dr. Perkins says we don't know a thing about the
climates of these extreme cold planets, and what forms of life may
exist. Think of those horrible quick-acting fungi that destroyed the
explorers of the first Uranus expedition."
"But you practically ordered Mate Longworth to go," she had retorted.
"That's different. Danger is his business."
There was no point in arguing. She left it at that, and promising
Walter to rejoin him later, strolled down the corridor and up the ramp
to the outer air-lock. But danger was her business, too, she told
herself, as she swung back the door to the compartment in which the
space suits were kept, and hastily took down the smallest on the rack.
Yes, the eye-pieces were mica-covered.
Danger was her business, she told herself again, as she turned on
the pressure jets to clear the lock; she was Paulette de Vries, the
radio gal, chosen for her part in this expedition out of all the radio
recorders of three planets for her utter fearlessness. And besides,
that snip of a First Mate, Adam Longworth, had intimated that she
needed protection. The lock snapped to behind her, and as it did so,
she thought exultantly that Captain Walter McCausland might as well
learn now as any other time that he couldn't order his prospective wife
around, even if he could make everyone else aboard the _Goddard_ jump.
* * * * *
The water was very dark, the color of bottle glass, splotched here and
there with darker, purplish shadows. Far above her, Paulette could
see the faint shimmering line of light that marked the space ship. It
looked to be hundreds of feet above her. Five steps in any direction,
she knew, would blot it out completely. She had no great fear of
getting lost, as the compass guide at her belt was tuned to the ship's
control compass and would always point to it. Somewhere down here in
the dark around her Adam and Jake were also exploring the bottom.
Although she couldn't see them, the thought gave her courage. She
stepped tentatively forward. One--two--three--four--five--at each step
floating a little before she came down. She could no longer see the
faint, comfortable lights of the ship somewhere above her, and for a
brief moment, panic tore at her throat. She fought it down. Silly! She
peered around her, as though the thought of Jake and Adam would make
them materialize. There! There they were. She could see them dimly,
like shadows, to her left. She turned and walked as swiftly as she
could in the direction. How Adam would laugh at her for her fears. What
a little coward--. She stopped suddenly, and cold, clammy fingers of
fear rippled along her spine. The dark shadow before her wasn't Adam
or Jake! It was something tall and thin. Something that seemed alive,
weaving back and forth, and about the same color as the water. It
seemed about ten feet high and six inches through, and was made up of
sections like a string of sausages. Then over to the right she saw more
of them--a regular forest.
Like the snapping of a brittle icicle, the tension broke. They were
plants. Some form of natural flora, swaying to and fro in the icy
currents of that dark sea. She laughed hysterically, and relief flooded
her, bathing her in perspiration. But the experience had nevertheless
unnerved her. Coward or not, she decided she had had enough, and
turned to find her way back to the ship. Then she saw it! Behind and a
little above her. Something big, whiter than the color of the water,
hovering, drifting. She tried to hurry. Tried to tell herself it was
just another surprising but inanimate form of life to be found in this
strange planet, but as she glanced back and up, she saw the thing was
keeping perfect pace with her. Horrified, she watched as it settled
slowly toward her. Huge. White. Hideously opaque. She couldn't move.
She could only stand, rooted as in some frightful nightmare, staring
with bursting eyes as the thing drifted gently toward her. Then panic
took her. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came from her
strangling throat, and her tongue clove tightly to the roof of her
mouth. She put her arms up, like a child trying to push aside a
horrible dream. Her hands touched a soft, white pulpy body. Touched
it, then to her utter horror _passed through into the body itself_!
They were gripped in that opaque substance. And still the thing
settled lower, like a great hideous, white cloak. It would cover her
completely. _Absorb her._ As it had absorbed her hands. As it was even
now absorbing her wrists--her arms....
* * * * *
Adam and Jake Burchall had set out with the idea of tracing a circle
of some 300 yards around the ship. In spite of the weak gravity, the
pressure was against them, and at each long, floating step they paused
while Adam probed into the silt of the ocean floor with a long rod.
Rock surface was only inches down; what kind of rock he could not
tell. At each step they encountered the same sausage-like chain-weeds
Paulette had met, and twice Adam attempted to pull up one of the
singular Plutonian plants, only to find it breaking into sections at a
touch.
"I suspect," said Adam through his phone, "that these are some very low
form of life. Look how they break along the joint, Jake. They probably
reproduce in that fashion, breaking off to form an entirely new plant."
"Funny we haven't seen any other form of life."
"Yes. It would be more usual to find a couple of hundred on an ocean
floor like this."
A surge in the water round them nearly swept the explorers from their
feet. Adam looked up. Scarcely ten feet above him, a huge brownish
globe shot past, twice his own height, its smooth surface studded with
countless tiny arms that beat the water in unison. As he gazed at it,
a paler, whitish mass soared through the twilight to leap on the brown
globe, and twisting in each other's grip, they passed from sight.
Jake's gasp came through the earphones and then his giggle,
"He--he--he, Mr. Adam, there's two more forms of life and we make
another one, if we stay alive till we get back."
Another three steps, and they halted again at the sight of a shapeless,
almost white mass looming through the fog of green ahead. It was
alive; it moved, but flowing, rather than swimming, and as nearly as
they could make out in the dimness was without eyes, mouth or visible
organs of any kind, a huge, shapeless jelly. Adam reached for the
rocket pistol at his belt, but Jake's eye had caught the motion and his
voice came through the earphones, "Don't use that thing, Mr. Adam. It
ain't--Holy catfish!"
The huge colorless jelly had sidled toward them through the water,
then sheered off, revealing as it did so, a core of some darker color
through its translucent sides and three shapeless legs whose motion
propelled it. As it made the turn away from the explorers it bumped one
of the curious segmented weeds and Jake had cried out.
* * * * *
For where the animal had bumped the weed a huge dent appeared in its
rounded forward end, growing rapidly till it was a cavern, a cavern
which engulfed the chain-weed. Instantly the lips of the cavern closed;
Adam could see that the surface had become as smooth as before, while
inside the translucent structure of the animal the outline of the weed
was faintly visible.
"I've seen things like that before," said Adam softly, as though
fearful of attracting the monster's attention.
"Where? I ain't never seen nothing like that. And I'm telling you, Mr.
Adam, I been around a lot. Even in those dinosaur swamps on Venus."
"Ever look through a microscope, Jake?"
"Can't say as I have very often, Mr. Adam."
"That's just what you see in a microscope, Jake. That brown thing was
just like a rotifer. Those big white lumps, that can turn themselves
into mouths anywhere they want to and then close up and turn themselves
into stomachs, they're amoebas. Amoebas as big as whales! They're the
most savage animals in the whole created kingdom--and just about the
most dangerous for their size."
The engineer's voice was doubtful. "You mean we're sort of in a
microscope?"
Adam grunted.
"Microscope my left foot! Those things are real! They're dangerous!
They're the lowest form of life, but what happened is probably that
they couldn't develop into any higher forms on this cold planet, so
they simply grew to gigantic size. Let's get out of here."
He took off in a long soaring step that carried him jerkily six feet
through the water, Jake following. They had progressed perhaps three
leaps, when the engineer's voice was suddenly loud inside Adam's
helmet--"Look! On the left there!"
Adam checked himself in mid-leap and saw a dark figure in the green
gloom of the undersea world, with one of the giant amoebas swooping
toward it. "A man!" came Jake's voice. "It's attacking one of the crew.
Stand still you, we're coming!"
* * * * *
There was no answer; the other diver only put up his arms to ward the
thing off, and they saw his hands were empty, weaponless. Another
leaping step carried them almost within reach of the hideous thing
that at the first touch of the other diver's hands had suddenly formed
itself into the huge ingestion funnel. Adam swung his arm back to stab
the amoeba with his explosive spear, but Jake's voice came through the
earphones.
"Too close, Mr. Adam. He's right on top of that man; you'll blow him to
pieces. Let me try to attract him away."
Jake was holding out the harmless end of the spear. He prodded the
giant amoeba briskly, and he did so, the jelly-like creature again
opened a huge funnel and swooped with a speed surprising for so large
and formless an object. Jake dodged and flattened to the sea-bottom,
shouting "Give it to him!"
Adam jabbed, pressing the button of his spear as he did so. There was a
violent shock; Adam himself went down from the impact of the compressed
water and as he fell saw the diver they had rescued tumbling also.
Above them a cloud of milky silt boiled up, then whipped away in long
ribbons as some obscure current of that strange sea caught it. The
giant amoeba loomed through the murk, with a great ragged hole in its
side--but the hole was closing, healing before their very eyes!
As he tried to rise and draw the rocket-pistol again, Adam's ears
caught Jake's growl of fury, and he saw the engineer lunge with another
of the bomb-spears. Again there was the violent shock and murky cloud,
half clearing to show Adam the strange diver, who took two staggering
steps toward him and then collapsed against his supporting arm. At
their feet the giant amoeba, lay, a whitish, shapeless mass, injured
beyond the power of a second restoration--but no! As he watched, a
foot long bud suddenly projected from the side of the mass, swelled,
detached itself, and then slithered off into the dimness.
"Holy catfish!" ejaculated Jake. "You can't kill the thing! Who is it
you got there?"
"Don't know. Hello there, hello! Doesn't answer."
"Better get him inside. I'll help."
Together they half dragged, half lifted the diver toward the air-lock,
leaped, caught it, and in a few minutes more were in. The lights in the
corridor were blinding bright; Jake and Adam snatched off their own
helmets, and worked feverishly on the gears of the stranger, to reveal
the pale, half-unconscious face of Paulette de Vries.
* * * * *
She grinned feebly and licked pale lips.
"Hello, Adam! Oh, boy was I glad to see you a few minutes ago! I
thought that thing had me. It was like a bad dream."
"Are you all right? How did you get there?"
"I'm all right now, thanks.... I walked." She got up, a tottering step,
and slipped out of her space suit. "I don't need help--excuse me, I'm
being ungrateful. What was it?"
"Giant amoeba, I think. He might have found that space suit of yours a
little hard to digest, but you would have smothered, waiting for him
to discover that. What ever persuaded you to go out there without your
headphones connected up or any weapons?"
"Adam Longworth, are you going to lecture me again?" she began, then
her face broke into a smile. "Oh, I suppose you're right this time,
though. The main reason was really to show Walter that I could do my
own thinking, to be honest. And--thank you again."
She held out her hand in gratitude. It lay cool in his for a minute,
returning the friendly pressure, and then she was gone.
"I think," said Captain McCausland, "that we can evade any more
incidents with these animals of yours by having the digging parties
work in an air-lock attached to the ship's entry lock. Diving suits
won't be necessary in that case."
"Of course, sir, that would be safer. Won't it use up a good deal of
fuel to move the ship for each separate dig, though, sir? We're very
low on fuel. May I suggest we pump into storage the amount necessary
to make the return voyage? Whatever is left over we can use for
exploration from a special tank. When that tank's empty, we're through
and we have to go."
"Good suggestion. Give orders accordingly, Mister Mate."
"What would you think of sampling parties, sir, say three well-armed
men, chipping off the surface rock wherever they can find it?"
"Waste of time. Beryllium will have to be dug for."
"Where shall we dig, sir? Right here? I understand that beryllium would
be closer to the surface near the planet's equator--if there is any."
"You understand? What gave you to understand anything of the kind? Are
you the geologist? We'll dig right here. Professor Reuter has made a
very exhaustive study of the question and he thinks the pole is much
the likeliest spot."