we could take over the fort. When we disconnected their tube lights
to put in our own, he"--indicating the creature beside him--"managed
to retain a sample of the tube. On its walls were absorbed layers of
several gases, but neon was the chief component. We had smuggled in the
neutrino converters and stabilizers from our ship"--and Keys said these
fellows were helpless, thought Little--"and it occurred to us that we
might set up a neon-oxygen reaction which would flood the place with
ultraviolet. We had already noticed that they could not stand it any
better than you. The half life of the process would have been of the
order of twelve hours, which should have driven them out for a period
of time ample for our purpose. A neutrino jet of very moderate power,
correctly tuned, could easily have catalyzed such a reaction in every
light tube in the place. We had built the projector, disguising it as
another ultraviolet lamp, and were connecting the converter when about
fifty of the guards dived in, took the whole thing away, and ran out
before the lamps we already had going could hurt them."
* * * * *
Little heroically forbore to ask the creatures why they had not
smuggled in their ship while they were about it and flown away. The
Vegans wouldn't have appreciated the humor.
"I believe I understand the purpose of the actions of these creatures,"
he said. "But some of their characteristics still puzzle me. Their
teamwork is perfect, better than that of well-trained human fighters,
but if my idea is correct their technical knowledge is inferior to
ours. I have already mentioned to my captain their apparent lack
of conceit--that is also based on my guess as to their motives in
capturing us. One thing, however, I do not understand at all. How do
they communicate? I have always been reluctant to fall back on the
'explanation' of telepathy; there are reasons which make me doubt that
it can ever be a satisfactory substitute for a language."
The Vegans looked at him for a moment, astonishment reflected in the
tenseness of their antennae.
"You do not see how they talk?" signaled one at length. "That is the
first and only thing we have been able to appreciate in their entire
make-up."
Little leaned forward. "Explain, please," he waved tensely. "That may
be the most important thing any of us has yet ascertained."
The Vegans explained at length. Great length. The recital was stretched
out by Little's frequent questions, and once or twice delayed by his
imperfect comprehension of the Vegan language. The sun was low in the
west when the conversation ended, but the doctor had at last what he
believed to be a complete mental picture of the habits, thoughts, and
nature of the pentapods, and he had more than the glimmerings of a
plan which might set the human and Vegan prisoners free once more. He
hoped.
He left his nonhuman allies, and sought out Magill. He found him at the
western corner of the roof, examining the landscape visible beyond the
tail of the spaceship. A couple of pentapods were on hand, as usual.
Leo Dennis was making himself useful, sketching the western skyline on
a pad he carried, with the apparent intention of marking the sunset
point. Magill had evidently decided that an assistant navigator should
be able to get his own location on a planet's surface as well as in
space. Dennis was slightly handicapped by a total lack of instruments,
but was doing his best. Little approached the quartermaster.
"Has anything new turned up, Keys?"
The officer shook his head without turning. "The men are all over the
roof, to see if there are any ventilator intakes or anything else. One
of them pointed out that the lack of superstructure suggested that
the roof might be used as a landing place for atmosphere craft, and
found some blast marks to back up the idea. No one else has made any
worth-while reports. If there are any aircraft, though, I'd like to
know where they stow them."
"It might help, though I hope we won't be driven to using them. I
suppose the boys have their eyes open for large, probably level-set
trapdoors in the roof. But what I wanted to find out was: with whom am
I sharing a room?"
"Don't recall, offhand," replied Magill. "It doesn't matter greatly.
If there is any one in particular you want--or don't want--to be with,
you're at liberty to trade with someone. I told the boys that."
"Thanks. I want to spend some time with the Dennis boys, without making
it too obvious. I suppose they're already together. By the way, seeing
I'm still a medical officer, has anyone reported sick? The air is just
a shade on the thin side, and we've been breathing it long enough for
effects to show, if there are going to be any."
Magill shook his head negatively, and Little strolled over to Leo, who
had completed his sketch and was trying to mark the position of the
sun at five-minute intervals. He was wearing one of the few watches
possessed by the party. He was perfectly willing to have his erstwhile
roommate replaced by the doctor, especially when Little promised work
to be done. He agreed to speak to his brother and to Cauley, who had
originally been assigned to their room.
"Tell Arthur to bring his pack, with the kit he sneaked along," added
the doctor. "We will probably have use for it." Leo nodded, grinning,
and resumed his attempts to fix the position of an object, much too
bright to view directly, which had an angular breadth on the order of
half a degree. He didn't appear discouraged yet.
* * * * *
Little wandered off across the roof, occasionally meeting and speaking
to one of the men. Morale seemed to be good, he noted with relief. He
had always considered that to be part of the business of a medical
officer, since it was, after all, directly reflected in the health of
the men.
A motion in the direction of the setting sun caught his eye. He turned
to face it and saw a narrow, dazzling crescent low in the western sky,
a crescent that rose and grew broader as he watched. The planet had a
satellite, like Mars, so close that its period of revolution was less
than one of its own days. Little wondered if a body so close to the
planet might not prove useful. He filed the thought away for future
reference.
The sun set as he watched, and he realized he had been right about
the thinness of the air. Darkness shut down almost at once. The moon
sprang into brilliance--brilliance that was deceptive, for details on
the landscape were almost impossible to make out. Stars, scattered
at random over the sky, began to appear; and as the last traces of
daylight faded away, there became visible, at first hazily and then
clear and definite, the ghostly shape of the Galaxy. Its sprawling
spiral arms stretched across a quarter of the sky, the bulk of the
system inclined some thirty degrees from the edge-on position--just
enough to show off the tracing of the great lanes of dust that divided
the arms.
The men began to drift toward the orange glow that shone through the
entrance panels and windows of the "penthouse!" They were greeted by
the whistle of Denham, who had just completed preparation of another
meal. It was eaten as the first had been, in the corridor with a silent
audience of guards. The men had grown used to the creatures, and were
no longer bothered by their presence. The conversation was desultory,
except when Arthur Dennis offered to take the place of Denham's helper
for the evening. It was the most plausible excuse for entering the
kitchen-storeroom, where the packs had been stowed. No one commented,
though everybody guessed the reason.
Windows and doors of all rooms were left open, the first because of
Little's advice, the second because the pentapods had removed all means
of closing the entrances--privacy was impossible, which did not in the
least surprise Little. At the conclusion of the meal, he accompanied
Leo Dennis to the latter's room, which was near the end of the corridor
farthest from the elevator, and waited for the arrival of Arthur. A
little investigation solved the secret of turning out the room's tube
lights, which darkened the place somewhat, but the light from the
corridor was sufficient to move around by.
* * * * *
Arthur entered after about fifteen minutes, carrying three packs
under his arms. Two of these he tossed to his brother and the doctor,
remarking, "Pillows in one suite, anyway!" The other he retained. The
three men rolled up the packs and placed them under the canvas at the
heads of their sleeping bags, conscious meanwhile of the never-ending
scrutiny from the door; then they leaned back against the wall and
relaxed.
The twins had tobacco, and all three smoked as they talked. A remark
of Leo's, which opened the conversation, eased Little's mind of one
problem which had been bothering him.
"Before we do or say anything else, doc," said the navigator, "please
think carefully before you tell us anything. I suppose you found out
a good deal from the Vegans, and I wouldn't be surprised to know
you have a campaign all mapped out; but I don't want to know more
than necessary. I have developed, from what the Vegans said and from
what I've seen myself, a very healthy respect for the intuition, or
guessing powers, or whatever it is, of our silent watchers. It makes me
uncomfortable. And the less I know the more natural I can let myself
act. All right?"
"All right; that was my own idea, too," answered the doctor. "I will
tell you no more than necessary. In the first place I should, like
Magill, like to know our location on this planet and the planet's
location in space. That, unquestionably, is your job, Leo. Then I want
to get the information to the handiest United base or ship. That's
all. I don't believe we could break out of here, though probably Keys
will try. I pin my hope on our broadcasting a message from inside and
letting people already outside do the rest."
The brothers nodded. "That's clear enough," said Leo, "and I can
probably locate us fairly well if.... Art, did you say you had a
grating in that kit of yours?"
"Yes," was the answer. "Do you need it?"
"Uncertain, but probably. I'll have to identify the local navigation
beacon somehow, and its spectrum will be the most outstanding
hallmark. Why don't doc and I go outside now and do some star-gazing,
while you curl up in your sleeping bag and see if the shadows don't
follow us? If they do, you can rummage in the kit without being seen,
and come out in a few minutes with the grating and a couple of the
lenses you mentioned. If they don't, we'll do what we can with the
naked eye and come back. Sound?"
"Solid. Be seeing you."
Arthur extinguished the stub of his cigarette, loosened his belt and
shirt, and began removing his boots, while Leo and Little rose and went
out into the hallway. Pentapods, scattered along the corridor, eyed
them as they emerged, but made no move to intercept them. The door
opening outside had been left ajar by the Earthmen in their policy of
avoiding the use of the building's ventilation system, and the guards
were evidently following a policy of noninterference with regard to
everything but weapons. The panel was still partly open.
Little pushed it wide, and the two human beings went out onto the roof.
To their surprise they were not followed; but both realized that there
might already be guards on the roof. They moved out of the path of the
light from the door and approached the nearest wall.
* * * * *
The mountains to the northeast were silhouetted against the almost
equally dark sky; the forest at their feet was indistinguishable. No
glow or spark of light suggested the presence, anywhere in the scene,
of the men who had escaped nine hours before, though Little and Dennis
strained their eyes looking. Not even a reflection from the river the
doctor believed must be present broke the dark expanse.
The sky offered more material for comment. The Galaxy was lower in
the west and the moon higher. Dennis, looking at the latter, did some
rapid mental arithmetic. It had risen about an hour and a half ago,
and would probably reach the zenith in a little more than another hour.
Its siderial period, then, must be about eight hours, and its distance,
if this world had the same size and mass as Earth, a little over eight
thousand miles from the surface. It was now nearly at "first quarter,"
but its dark side was faintly visible, presumably illuminated by the
reflected light of the planet. Somewhat less than four hours after
sunset, the satellite should enter the planet's shadow and be eclipsed
for about forty minutes, unless its orbit were more highly inclined to
that of the planet than appeared to be the case.
Little was looking at the stars, spread over the sky in unfamiliar
constellations. "Which of these is the local navigation beacon, and how
do you identify it?" he asked. "And why do you pick out one star to
call a beacon?"
"It would be possible to obtain our position from any three stars whose
location is on the charts," answered Dennis, "but it is much easier, as
a rule, to use certain individuals, because tables have been computed
for use with them, and they are easier to identify. I don't have the
tables with me, of course, but the beacon for this neighborhood and
the Galaxy, together, would give me a fairly good idea. We use the
brightest available stars for beacons, naturally--Rigel and Deneb in
the Solar sector, for example. For navigation in the Larger Cloud
we use a slightly different system, which employs two super-giant
stars back in the Galaxy and the one local beacon which covers the
whole Cloud--S Doradus. It shouldn't be hard to find, even without
instruments, since it's a first-magnitude star at a thousand parsecs;
but we always like to check the spectrum, if possible. Most beacon
stars, of course, are O, B, or M supergiants, but there are usually
detectable individual differences which can be picked out by a good
instrument. We haven't a good instrument but fortunately S Doradus has
a very distinctive spectrum."
Little nodded. "I can see that much. Don't tell me how you reduce the
observations to get your position; it would certainly go beyond my
mathematical limit, and I don't like to be shown up."
"It's not difficult--elementary spherical trig. If you know what a
direction cosine is, you're all right. Matter of fact, that's how
positions are indicated--three direction cosines from a given beacon,
plus distance. I don't know how we'll get the distance--I can estimate
brightness to a tenth of a magnitude, but that may answer to a small
percentage of an awful distance. We usually can triangulate, but not in
the Cloud."
"I'll take your word for it," replied the doctor. "Can you see anything
that might be your beacon?"
"There's a fairly bright specimen sitting just above the north horizon,
that seems to have a tinge of yellow; and there's another right
overhead. If Art ever gets here with the lenses and grating I'll test
them. I suppose he can't make it, since the dumb chums didn't follow us
out here and give him a chance to burrow into the kit."
"He may find a way to do it, anyway," remarked the doctor.
"It would be just like him to try, and lose the kit," was the
pessimistic answer.
* * * * *
Even Little was growing discouraged by the time Arthur finally arrived.
They had been out nearly an hour, Little amusing himself by strolling
along the walls to see whether anything were visible below, and Leo
observing the satellite as it approached the zenith. He had already
come to the conclusion, from the fact that the sun had set practically
"straight down," that they were near the equator of the planet. It now
seemed that the moon was in the equatorial plane, since it was rising
to a point directly overhead. It was well past first quarter now, but
the unlighted crescent was still visible. Leo had just noticed this
fact when Arthur's voice interrupted his pondering.
"I assumed you wanted the lenses for a telescope of sorts, and chose
accordingly," said the technician. "It took me a long time to work the
kit out of the pack and into the sleeping bag because the guards were
looking in every two or three minutes. I don't know what will happen
when they find me gone."
"I do, you chump," answered Leo. "Two or three of them will drift out
here after us, and some more will seize the chance to investigate the
pack whose position you changed so often."
"Think so?" asked Arthur. "Here are the lenses and grating. I brought
the rod and lens clamps, too, but I'm afraid you'll have to get along
without a tube." His brother accepted the assortment and fell to work.
The doctor looked on silently. Arthur had brought a light also, and
held it on the step which served as a workbench.
Leo, after a moment's thought, discarded one lens and used the
other--the one of longer focal length. He clamped this at one end of
the rod, with the plane side toward the center. The grating was smaller
than the lens, and he clamped it against the plane face of the latter
with the excess glass blocked off with paper. Another sheet of paper--a
leaf torn from his sketch pad--was clamped to the rod at the focal
distance of the lens, completing the crude spectroscope.
He set the instrument on the wall, propping it so that it was pointed
toward the northern horizon and one of the stars he had mentioned. He
leaned over it, to cut off the moonlight. The other two also leaned
forward to see the results.
A little streak of color, narrow as a pencil line, was just visible
on the paper screen. Leo brought his eyes as close as he could,
striving to perceive the tiny dark gaps that should have existed;
but the resolution of the instrument was not sufficient. After a
moment's pause, he returned to the original idea, removing the paper
and clamping the other lens in normal eyepiece position. This proved
successful. He could make out enough to identify both the stars he had
counted on as unquestionably sun-type G stars, probably no more than a
few parsecs distant, and definitely not the giant he sought.
* * * * *
The navigator began to wear a worried expression. There were several
thousand stars visible to the naked eye, and only a few of them were
obviously not the object of his search. After a few minutes, however,
he began a methodical examination of all the brighter yellow and white
stars, one after another. Arthur and the doctor saw that interruption
would not be helpful, so they withdrew a few yards and conversed in low
tones.
"What will you do if Leo does get our position?" asked the technician.
"I suppose you have some idea."
"The idea I have depends almost entirely on you," answered Little. "I
have been told that a second-order transmitter is less complicated than
an ordinary radio. Could you build one?"
Dennis frowned and hesitated. "If I had all the materials and no
interruptions, yes. Here and now, I don't know if the necessary
equipment is available, and I'm reasonably sure we wouldn't be allowed
to do it, anyway."
"You said there were two atomic tools in your kit, a heater and a
stroboscope," said Little. "Would their parts be enough?" Once again
Dennis paused to think.
"The welder wouldn't--it's just a converter and a tungsten element.
The stroboscope converts with a direct electron current and a variable
oscillator and--I believe it could be done. But it wouldn't handle much
power, and the range would be nothing to speak of."
"That doesn't matter, as I see it. All I want to know is that you can
build a vision transmitter with the material on hand--"
"Wait a minute!" interrupted Arthur. "I didn't say a vision unit. What
do you need that for? All I was counting on was voice transmission.
That won't be very difficult."
Little shook his head. "Vision or nothing. I don't want to tell you
why, for the reason Leo gave. But please, if you don't want me to
have to re-design the whole plan, find a way to construct a vision
transmitter. And I hate to be too exacting, but I'd like it done before
that ship leaves again. I don't know how long they usually stay here,
but I notice they're stocking up."
"Sure," groaned Dennis. "Right away. Doc, if it were anyone else I'd
know he was crazy, but with you it's only a strong suspicion. I'll
try--but Lord knows where I can come by an icon tube."
Little grinned invisibly in the darkness. "The Vegans said they
smuggled up a complete neutrino assembly. It was taken away from them
later, but it gives you an idea of what can be done."
"They didn't give you an idea of their technique, I suppose? I'm not
too proud to learn."
"I didn't ask them. There were guards around. Good luck!"
* * * * *
Little went back to Leo, who was resting his arms. Not a single O class
spectrum had yet been picked up by the instrument.
"If I were sure it were there, I wouldn't mind so much," he said,
wiping his forehead. "But it's just as likely to be in the daylight
half of the sky. I'd rather not have to wait here half of whatever time
it takes this world to amble around its sun, just to get a rough idea
of where I am."
Little nodded sympathetically--after all, he was the one who wanted
their location. "Does the moonlight interfere any?" he asked.
"It did, until I made a rough tube out of paper. It's a little hard to
hold together. But speaking of the moon, doc, have you noticed anything
strange about it?"
"I wouldn't," answered Little. "Is something wrong? It looks natural to
me."
"It doesn't to me. It did right after sunset, when it was a narrow
crescent. We could see the rest of it then, but reflection from this
planet could have accounted for that. But it doesn't now! The darn
thing's nearly full, and you can still see the strip that the sun
doesn't reach. This world can't possibly reflect enough light for that.
What's lighting it up?"
"I'm afraid it's no use to ask me," said the doctor. "I can guarantee
it's not radioactivity, because that much radioactive matter so close
would have prevented the existence of life on this world. It would have
been burned sterile; we'd probably be dead now ourselves. I don't know
any astronomy, but I can tell you all you want to know about gamma-ray
burns."
"That occurred to me, too," agreed Leo. "It seems that there must be
something, at present invisible to us, shining on that satellite. I
think in a few minutes we'll be able to get an idea of where it's
shining from, too."
"How?" asked Little and Arthur with one voice.
"The moon should pass into this planet's shadow very shortly,"
answered Leo. "A lunar eclipse. The satellite must have one every
revolution--almost four times a day, I should say. The sun's light
will be cut off, except for the fraction scattered by the atmosphere
of this world, and we should be able to tell from the shape of the
part illuminated by this mystery source, the direction of the source.
We'll wait." The other two nodded. Even Little, who was no astronomer,
understood the mechanism of an eclipse. The three settled themselves on
the broad steps inside the wall.
* * * * *
They had not long to wait. It was about three and a quarter hours
after sunset, and the first outlying tentacles of the looming Galaxy
were just dipping below the western horizon, when Leo marked the first
darkening of the eastern limb of the nearly full moon. It was not like
the protracted lunar eclipse of Earth; the satellite was moving far
more swiftly, and took less than a minute to travel its own diameter.
There was a feeble, preliminary reddening as it plunged into the region
illuminated only by air-scattered light; then this was gone, as the
little body passed on into the umbra of the planet's shadow.
It should have disappeared. No possible reflection from the planet it
circled could have given it a touch of illumination, for it looked
down only on the night side of the world. Yet part of it was still to
be seen--a ghostly, dim-lit crescent, a little less than half full, its
convex side facing _east_. There was no possible question of the nature
of the light source. Leo estimated the distance of the moon above the
eastern horizon, and the angular breadth of illuminated surface; there
was only a small difference.
"It will rise before long," he said. "I'm staying to see. You fellows
can go back to sleep if you wish; we've been out over two hours and
we'll need some sleep."
"We'll stay," said Little. "This gets interesting. Do you think there's
another, very bright, moon? Large enough, perhaps, to be habitable?"
Leo shook his head. "I don't believe any possible moon could do that,"
he said. Arthur nodded in silent agreement, and for many minutes the
three sat without speaking as the dimly lit crescent dipped lower
toward the eastern horizon. Leo had judged roughly that the eclipse
should last about forty minutes.
It had not ended when Arthur pointed silently to the east. A spur of
the mountain range whose principal peaks lay to the northeast had
become a little clearer, silhouetted against a suddenly brighter patch
of sky. The brilliance grew and spread, paling the stars in that
quarter of the heavens as though dawn were breaking; and quite suddenly
the source rode clear of the concealing hill and presented itself to
view. The undulations of the landscape were abruptly visible, standing
out against the long shadows cast by the light of the newcomer, which
hung, far brighter than the moon at its best, just above the peaks.