THE SURVIVOR
Provided with a sledge-hammer, a crowbar, and a hydraulic jack, and even
with drills and explosives as a last resort, Jackson, Kinney, and Van
Emmon returned the same day to the walled-in room in the top of that
mystifying mansion. The materials they carried would have made
considerable of a load had not Smith removed enough of the weights from
their suits to offset their burden. They reached the unopened door
without special exertion, and with no mishap.
They looked in vain for a crack big enough to hold the point of the
crowbar; neither could the most vigorous jabbing loosen any of the
material. They dropped that tool and tried the sledge. It got no
results; even in the hands of the husky geologist, the most vigorous
blows failed to budge the door. They did not even dent it.
So they propped the powerful hydraulic jack, a tool sturdy enough to
lift a house, at an angle against the door. Then, using the crowbar as a
lever, the architect steadily turned up the screw, the mechanism
multiplying his very ordinary strength a hundredfold. In a moment it
could be seen that he was getting results; the door began to stir. Van
Emmon struck one edge with the sledge-hammer, and it gave slightly.
In another minute the whole door, weighing over a ton, had been pushed
almost out of its opening. The jack overbalanced, toppled over; they did
not readjust it, but threw their combined weight upon the barrier.
There was no need to try again. With a shiver the huge slab of metal
slid, upright, into the space beyond, stood straight on end for a second
or so, then toppled to the floor.
_And this time they heard the crash._
For, as the door fell, a great gust of wind rushed out with a hissing
shriek, almost overbalancing the men from the earth. They stood still
for a while, breathing hard from their exertion, trying in vain to peer
into the blackness before them. Under no circumstances would either of
them have admitted that he was gathering courage.
In a minute the architect, his eyes sparkling with his enthusiasm for
the antique, picked up the electric torch and turned it into the
compartment. As he did so the other two stepped to his side, so that the
three of them faced the unknown together. It was just as well. Outlined
in that circle of light, and not six feet in front of them, stood a
great chair upon a wide platform; and seated in it, erect and alert, his
wide open eyes staring straight into those of the three, was the
frightful mountainous form of Strokor, the giant, _himself_.
For an indeterminable length of time the men from the earth stood there,
speechless, unbreathing, staring at that awful monster as though at a
nightmare. He did not move; he was entirely at ease, and yet plainly on
guard, glaring at them with an air of conscious superiority which held
them powerless. Instinctively they knew that the all-dominating voice in
the records had belonged to this Hercules. But their instinct could not
tell them whether the man still lived.
It was the doctor's brain that worked first. Automatically, from a
lifelong habit of diagnosis, he inspected that dreadful figure quite as
though it were that of a patient. Bit by bit his subconscious mind
pieced together the evidence; the man in the chair showed no signs of
life. And after a while the doctor's conscious mind also knew.
"He is dead," he said positively, in his natural voice; and such was the
vast relief of the other two that they were in no way startled by the
sound. Instantly all three drew long breaths; the tension was relaxed;
and Van Emmon's curiosity found a harsh and unsteady voice.
"How under heaven has he been preserved all this time? Especially," he
added, remembering, "considering the air that we found in the room?"
The doctor answered after a moment, his reply taking the form of
advancing a step or two and holding out a hand. It touched glass.
For the first time since the discovery, the builder shifted the light.
He had held it as still as death for a full minute. Now he flashed it
all about the place, and they saw that the huge figure was entirely
encased in glass. The cabinet measured about six feet on each of its
sides, and about five feet in height; but such were the squat
proportions of the occupant that he filled the whole space.
A slight examination showed that the case was not fixed to the platform,
but had a separate bottom, upon which the stumplike chair was set. Also,
they found that, thanks to the reduced pull of the planet, it was not
hard for the three of them to lift the cabinet bodily, despite its
weight of almost a thousand pounds. They left the tools lie there,
discarded as much weight as they could, and proceeded to carry that
ages-old superman out into the light.
Here they could see that the great man was all but a negro in color. It
was equally clear, however, from an examination of his mammoth cranium
and extraordinary expression, that he was as highly developed along most
mental lines as the greatest men on earth. It was the back of his head,
however, so flat that it was only a continuation of his neck, or,
rather, shoulders, that told where the flaw lay. That, together with the
hardness of his eye, the cruelty of his mouth, and the absolute lack of
softness anywhere in the ironlike face or frame--all this condemned the
monster for what he was; inhuman.
It was not easy to get him down the two flights of stairs. More than
once they had to prop the case on a step while they rested; and at one
time, just before they reached that curious heap of rubbish at the foot
of the upper stairs, Jackson's strength gave way and it looked as though
the whole thing would get away from them. Van Emmon saved it at the cost
of a bruised shoulder.
Once at the bottom of the lower flight, the rest was easy. Within a very
few minutes the astonished face of the engineer was peering into the
vestibule; he could hardly wait until the air-tight door was locked
before opening the inner valves. He stared at the mammoth figure in the
case long and hard, and from then on showed a great deal of respect for
his three friends.
Of course, at that time the members of the expedition did not understand
the conditions of Mercury as they are now known. They had to depend upon
the general impression they got from their first-hand investigations;
and it is remarkable that the doctor should have guessed so close to the
truth.
"He must have made up his mind to outlast everybody else," was the way
he put it as he kicked off his suit. He stepped up to the cabinet and
felt of the glass. "I wish it were possible, without breaking the case,
to see how he was embalmed."
His fingers still rested on the glass. Suddenly his eyes narrowed; he
ran his fingers over the entire surface of the pane, and then whirled to
stare at a thermometer.
"That's mighty curious!" he ejaculated. "This thing was bitter cold when
we brought it in! Now it's already as warm as this car!"
Smith's eyes lit up. "It may be," he offered, "that the case doesn't
contain a vacuum, but some gas which has an electrical affinity for our
atmosphere."
"Or," exclaimed the geologist suddenly, "the glass itself may be totally
different from ours. It may be made of--"
"_God!_" shouted the doctor, jerking his hand from the cabinet and
leaping straight backward. At the same instant, with a grinding crash,
all three sides of the case collapsed and fell in splinters to the
floor.
"Look out!" shrieked Jackson. He was staring straight into the now
unhooded eyes of the giant. He backed away, stumbled against a stool,
and fell to the floor in a dead faint. Smith fumbled impotently with a
hammer. The doctor was shaking like a leaf.
But Van Emmon stood still in his tracks, his eyes fixed on the Goliath;
his fingernails gashed the palms of his hands but he would not budge.
And as he stared he saw, from first to last, the whole ghastly change
that came, after billions of years of waiting, to the sole survivor of
Mercury.
A glaze swept over the huge figure. Next instant every line in that
adamant frame lost its strength; the hardness left the eyes and mouth.
The head seemed to sink lower into the massive shoulders, and the
irresistible hands relaxed. In another second the thing that had once
been as iron had become as rubber.
But only for an instant. Second by second that huge mountain of muscle
slipped and jellied and actually melted before the eyes of the humans.
At the same time a curious acrid odor arose; Smith fell to coughing. The
doctor turned on more oxygen.
In less than half a minute the man who had once conquered a planet was
reduced to a steaming mound of brownish paste. As it sank to the floor
of the case, it touched a layer of coarse yellow powder sprinkled there;
and it was this that caused the vapor. In a moment the room was filled
with the haze of it; luckily, the doctor's apparatus worked well.
And thus it came about that, within five minutes from being exposed to
the air of the sky-car, that whole immense bulk, chair and all, had
vanished. The powder had turned it to vapor, and the purifying chemicals
had sucked it up. Nothing was left save a heap of smoking, grayish ashes
in the center of the broken glass.
Van Emmon's fingers relaxed their grip. He stirred to action, and turned
briskly to Smith.
"Here! Help me with this thing!"
Between them they got the remains of the cabinet, with its gruesome
load, into the vestibule. As for the doctor, he was bending over
Jackson's still unconscious form. When he saw what the others were
doing, he gave a great sigh of relief.
"Good!" He helped them close the door. "Let's get away from this damned
place!"
The outer door was opened. At the same time Smith started the machinery;
and as the sky-car shot away from the ground he tilted it slightly, so
that the contents of the vestibule was slid into space. Down it fell
like so much lead.
The doctor glanced through a nearby window, and his face brightened as
he made out the distant gleam of another planet. He watched the receding
surface of Mercury with positive delight.
"Nice place to get away from," he commented. "And now, my friends, for
Venus, and then--home!"
* * * * *
But the other's eyes were fixed upon a tiny sparkle in the dust outside
the palace, where the vestibule had dropped its load. It was the sun
shining upon some broken bits of glass; the glass which, for untold
ages, had enclosed the throne of the Death-lord.
THE QUEEN OF LIFE
I
NEXT STOP, VENUS!
When he first got the idea of the sky-car, the doctor never stopped to
consider whether he was the right man for such an excursion. Personally,
he hated travel. He was merely a general practitioner, with a great
fondness for astronomy; and the sole reason why he wanted to visit the
planets was that he couldn't see them well enough with his telescope. So
he dabbled a little in magnetism and so forth, and stumbled upon the
principle of the cube.
But he had no mechanical ability, and was on the point of giving up the
scheme when he met Smith. He was instantly impressed by the engineer's
highly commonplace face; he had had considerable experience with human
contrariness, and felt sure that Smith must be an absolute wonder, since
he looked so very ordinary.
Kinney's diagnosis proved correct. Smith knew his business; the
machinery was finished in a hurry and done right. However, when it came
to fitting the outfit into a suitable sky-car, Kinney was obliged to
call in an architect. That accounts for E. Williams Jackson. At the same
time, it occurred to the doctor that they would need a cook. Mrs. Kinney
had refused to have anything whatever to do with the trip, and so Kinney
put an ad in the paper. As luck would have it, Van Emmon, the geologist,
who had learned how to cook when he first became a mountaineer, saw the
ad and answered it in hope of adventure.
The doctor himself, besides his training in the mental and bodily
frailities of human beings, had also an unusual command of the related
sciences, such as biology. Smith's specialties have already been named;
he could drive an airplane or a nail with equal ease. Van Emmon, as a
part of his profession, was a skilled "fossilologist," and was well up
in natural history.
As for E. Williams Jackson--the architect was also the sociologist of
the four. Moreover, he had quite a reputation as an amateur antiquarian.
Nevertheless, the most important thing about E. Williams Jackson was not
learned until after the visit to Mercury, after the terrible end of that
exploration, after the architect, falling in a faint, had been revived
under the doctor's care.
"Gentlemen," said Kinney, coming from the secluded nook among the
dynamos which had been the architect's bunk; "gentlemen, I must inform
you that Jackson is not what we thought.
"He--I mean, she--is a woman!"
Which put an entirely new face upon matters. The three men, discussing
it, marveled that the architect had been able to keep her sex a secret
all the time they were exploring at Mercury. They did not know that none
of E. Williams Jackson's fellow architects had ever guessed the truth.
Ambitious and ingenious, with a natural liking for house-planning, she
had resolved that her sex should not stand in the way of success.
And when she finally came to herself, there in her bunk, and suspected
that her secret was out--instead of shame or embarrassment she felt only
chagrin. She walked, rather unsteadily, across the floor of the great
cube-shaped car to the window where the three were standing; and as they
quietly made a place for her, she took it entirely as a matter of
course, and without a word.
The doctor had been speaking of the peculiar fitness of the four for
what they were doing. "And if I'm not mistaken," he went on, "we're
going to need all the brains we can pool, when we get to Venus.
"I never would have claimed, when we started out, that Mercury had ever
been inhabited. But now that we've seen what we've seen, I feel dead
sure that Venus once was peopled."
The four looked out the triple-glazed vacuum-insulated window at the
steadily growing globe of "Earth's twin sister." Half in sunlight and
half in shadow, this planet, for ages the synonym for beauty, was now
but a million miles away. She looked as large as the moon; but instead
of a silvery gleam, she showed a creamy radiance fully three times as
bright.
"Let's see," reflected the geologist aloud. "As I recall it, the
brightness of a planet depends upon the amount of its air. That would
indicate, then, that Venus has about as much as the earth, wouldn't it?"
remembering how the home planet had looked when they left it.
The doctor nodded. "There are other factors; but undoubtedly we are
approaching a world which is a great deal like our own. Venus is nearly
as large as the earth, has about nine-tenths the surface, and a gravity
almost as strong. The main difference is that she's only two-thirds as
far from the sun as we are."
"How long is her day?" Smith wanted to know.
"Can't say. Some observers claim to have seen her clearly enough to
announce a day of the same length as ours. Others calculate that she's
like Mercury; always the same face toward the sun. If so, her day is
also her year--two hundred and twenty-five of our days."
Van Emmon looked disappointed. "In that case she would be blistering hot
on one side and freezing cold on the other; except," remembering
Mercury, "except for the 'twilight zone,' where the climate would be
neither one nor the other, but temperate." He pointed to the line down
the middle of the disk before them, the line which divided the lighted
from the unlighted, the day from the night.
The four looked more intently. It should be remembered that the very
brilliance of Venus has always hindered the astronomers; the planet as a
whole is always very conspicuous but its very glare makes it impossible
to see any details. The surface has always seemed to be covered by a
veil of hazy, faintly streaked vapor.
Smith gave a queer exclamation. For a moment or two he stared hard at
the planet; then looked up with an apologetic grin.
"I had a foolish idea. I thought--" He checked himself. "Say, doesn't
Venus remind you of something?"
The doctor slowly shook his head. "Can't say that it does, Smith. I have
always considered Venus as having an appearance peculiarly her own.
Why?"
The engineer started to answer, stopped, thought better of it, and
instead pointed out the half that was in shadow. "Why is it that we can
make out the black portion so easily?"
Kinney could answer this. "The fact is, it isn't really black at all,
but faintly lighted. Presumably it is star-shine."
"Star-shine!" echoed the architect, interested.
"Just that. You see," finished the doctor, "if that side is never turned
toward the sun, then it must be covered with ice, which would reflect
the star--"
"Ah!" exclaimed Smith with satisfaction. "I wasn't so crazy after all!
My notion was that the whole blamed thing is covered with ice!"
It looked reasonable. Certainly the entire sphere had a somewhat watery
appearance. It prompted the geologist to say:
"Kinney--if that reflection is really due to ice, then there must be
plenty of water vapor in the air. And if that's the case--"
"Not only is life entirely possible," stated the doctor quietly, "but
I'll bet you this sky-car against an abandoned soap-stone mine that we
find humans, or near-human beings there when we land tomorrow!"
II
SPEAKING OF VENUS
The architect was still dressed in the fashionably cut suit of men's
clothes she had worn while in the car. Van Emmon thought of this when he
said, somewhat awkwardly:
"Well, I'm going to fix something to eat. It'll be ready in half an
hour, Miss--er--Jackson."
She looked at him, slightly puzzled; then understood. "You mean to give
me time to change my clothes? Thanks; but I'm used to these. And
besides," with spirit, "I never could see why women couldn't wear what
they choose, so long as it is decent."
There was no denying that hers were both becoming and "decent." Modeled
after the usual riding costume, both coat and breeches were youthfully,
rather than mannishly, tailored; and the narrow, vertical stripe of the
dark gray material served to make her slenderness almost girlish. In
short, what with her poet-style hair, her independent manner and direct
speech, she was far more like a boy of twenty than a woman nearing
thirty.
She walked with Van Emmon, dodging machinery all the way, across the big
car to the little kitchenette over which he had presided. There, to his
dismay, the girl took off her coat, rolled up her sleeves, and announced
her intention of helping.
"You're a good cook, Van--I mean, Mr.--"
"Let it go at Van, please," said he hastily. "My first name is Gustave,
but nobody has ever used it since I was christened."
"Same with my 'Edna,' she declared. "Mother's name was Williams, and I
was nicknamed 'Billie' before I can remember. So that's settled," with
great firmness. The point is--Van--you're a good cook, but everything
tastes of bacon. I wish you'd let me boss this meal."
He looked rebellious for an instant, then gave a sigh of relief. "I'm
really tickled to death."
A little later the doctor and Smith, looking across, saw Van Emmon being
initiated into the system which constructs scalloped potatoes. Next, he
was discovering that there is more than one way to prepare dried beef.
"For once, we won't cream it," said E. Billie Jackson, dryly, as Van
Emmon laid down the can-opener. "We'll make an omelet out of it, and see
if anything happens."
She was already beating the eggs. He cut up the meat into small pieces,
and when he was finished, took the egg-beater away from her. He turned
it so energetically that a speck of foam flew into his face.
"Go slow," she advised, nonchalantly reaching up with a dish-towel and
wiping the fleck away. Whereupon he worked the machine more furiously
than ever.
Soon he was wondering how on earth he had come to assume, all along,
that she was not a woman. He now saw that what he had previously
considered boyishness in her was, in fact, simply the vigor and
freshness of an earnest, healthy, energetic girl. It dawned upon him
that her keen, gray eyes were not sharp, but alert; her mouth, not hard,
but resolute; her whole expression, instead of mannish, just as womanly
as that of any girl who has been thrown upon her own resources, and made
good. He soon found that his eyesight did not suffer in any way because
he looked at her.
"Now," she remarked, in her businesslike way, as she placed the brimming
pan into the oven, "I suppose that I'll hear various hints to the effect
that a woman has no business trying to do men's stunts. And I warn you
right now that I'm prepared to put up a warm argument!"
"Of course," said the geologist, with such gravity that the girl knew he
didn't mean it; "of course a woman's place is in the home. Surrounded by
seventeen or eighteen children, and cooking for that many more hired men
besides, she is simply ideal. We realize that."
"Then, admitting that much, why shouldn't a woman be as independent as
she likes? Think what women did during the war; remember what a lot of
women are doctors and lawyers! Is there any good reason why I couldn't
design a library as well as a man could?"
"None at all," agreed Van Emmon, handing over the dish of chopped meat.
The girl carefully folded the contents into the now spongelike omelet as
he went on: "By the way, a neighbor of mine told me, just before I left,
that he was having trouble with a broken sewer. How'd you like to--"
"About as well as you'd like to darn socks!" she came back, evidently
being primed for such comments. She took a look at the potatoes, and
then permitted the geologist to open their sixth can of peaches. "I must
say they're good," she admitted, as she noted the eagerness with which
he obeyed.
Bread and butter, olives, coffee and cake completed that meal. The table
was set with more care than usual, a clean cloth and napkins being
unearthed for the occasion. When Smith and Kinney were called, both
declared that they weren't hungry enough to do justice to it all.
"It's just as well you weren't very hungry," commented Billie, as she
finished giving each of them a second helping of the potatoes. "There's
barely enough left for me," and she took it.
"Say, I never thought of it before, Miss--er--Miss Billie," said Smith
coloring; "but you eat just as much as a man!"
"Ye gods, how shocking!" she jeered. "Come to think of it, Smith, you
eat _more_ than a woman!"
The doctor's face grew red with some suppressed emotion. After a while
he said soberly: "I'll tell you what's worrying Smith. He's afraid that
women, having suddenly become very progressive, will forge entirely
ahead of men. You understand--having started, they can't stop. And I
must admit that I've thought seriously of it at times myself."
"Me too," added Van Emmon earnestly. "I have the same feeling about it
that an elderly man must have when he sees a young one get on the job.
Instead of being glad that the women are making good, I sort of resent
it."
"I knew it!" exclaimed the girl delightedly. "But I never heard a man
admit it before!"
"Perhaps it isn't as serious as we think," said the practical Smith,
scraping the bottom of the potato pan. "I believe that the progress of
women may have a fine effect upon men, making us less self-satisfied,
and more alert. For one thing," glancing about the cube, "we've got to
clean up a bit, now that we know you're a woman!"
The architect's eyes flashed. "Because you know mighty well I'll
light in and do it myself, if you don't; that's what you mean! Please
take notice that I'm to be respected, not because of what I _am_, but
because of what I can _do_!"
"In behalf of myself and companions, I surrender!" said the doctor
gallantly. Then he instantly added: "And yet, even when we are actually
chivalrous, we are disregarding your desire to be appreciated for what
you are worth. Pardon me, Miss Billie; I'll not forget again.
"At the same time, my dear," remembering that he had a daughter of his
own, nearly the builder's age, "we men have come to think of women
primarily as potential mothers, and secondarily as people of affairs.
And considering that motherhood is something that is denied to us lords
of the earth--"
"For which we can thank a merciful Providence," interjected the girl
solemnly.
"Considering this--excuse my seriousness--really amazing fact, you can't
blame us for expecting women to fulfil this vital function before taking
up other matters."
"Yes?" remarked the girl, watching the peaches with anxious eye as Van
Emmon helped himself. "Funny; but I always understood that the first
function of man was to father the race; yet, invariably the young
fellows try to make names for themselves before, not after, they marry!"
"Scalped!" chuckled Van Emmon, as the doctor hid his discomfiture behind
a large piece of cake. "You may know a lot about Venus, doc, but you
don't know much about women!"
"Speaking about Venus," Smith was reminded, "we may learn something
bearing upon the very point we have been discussing if Kinney's right
about the inhabitants."
The doctor nodded eagerly. "You see, if there's people still alive on
the planet, they're probably further advanced than we on the earth.
Other things being equal, of course. Being a smaller planet than ours,
she cooled off sooner, and thus became fit for life earlier. And having
been made from the same 'batch,' to use Van's expression, that Mercury
and all the rest were, why, in all likelihood evolution has taken place
there much the same as with us, only sooner.
"I should expect," he elaborated largely, "that we shall find the
inhabitants much the same as we humans, only extremely civilized. It may
be that they are as far above us as we are above monkeys."
Smith broke in by quoting an astronomer who contended that Venus kept
only one face toward the sun. "Maybe she always did, Kinney."
The doctor shook his head. "See how perfectly round she is? No
oblateness whatever. It proves that she once revolved, otherwise she'd
be pear-shaped, from the sun's pull."
There was a short silence, during which Billie concluded that the only
scraps left would be the coffee-grounds. Then Van Emmon pushed away from
the table, got to his feet, stretched a little to relieve his nerves,
and said:
"Well, whatever we find on Venus, I hope the women do the cooking!"
III
THE FIRST VENUSIAN
When the sky-car was within a thousand miles of the surface, Smith
adjusted the currents so that the floor was directed downward. The four
changed from the window to the deadlight, and watched the approaching
disk with every bit of the excitement and interest they had felt when
nearing Mercury.
The doctor had warned them that the heavy atmosphere which Venus
was known to possess would prevent seeing as clearly as in the case
of the smaller planet. All were much disappointed, however, to find
that they were still unable to make out a single definite detail. The
great half-shining, half-black world showed nothing but that vaguely
streaked, ice-like haze.
There was something very queer about it all. "Strange that we should see
no movement in those clouds," mused the doctor aloud. "That is, if they
really are clouds."
Van Emmon already doubted it. "Just what I was thinking. There ought to
be terrific winds; yet, so far as I have seen, there's been nothing
doing anywhere on the surface since we first began to observe it."
After a while the doctor put away his binoculars and rubbed his eyes.
"We might as well descend faster, Smith. Can't see a thing from here."
Unhindered by air to impede its progress the sky-car had been hurtling
through space at cometary speed. Now, however, Smith added the power of
the apparatus to the pull of the planet, so that the disk began to rush
toward them at a truly alarming rate. After a few seconds of it Billie
found herself unconsciously moving to the side of the geologist.
He looked down at her, understood, and flushed with pleasure. "There's
no danger," he confidently assured her, with the result that, her
courage fortified, the girl moved back to her place again. Van Emmon
inwardly kicked himself.
So deceptive was that peculiar fogginess Smith throttled their descent
as soon as they had reached the point where the planet's appearance
changed from round to flat. They were headed for the line which marked
the boundary of the shadow. This gray "twilight zone" was three or four
hundred miles in width; on the right of it--to the east--the dazzling
surface of that sunlit vapor contrasted sharply with the all but black
mistiness of the starward side. Clearly the zone ought to be temperate
enough.
Down they sank. As they came nearer a curious pinkish tint began to show
beneath them. Shortly it became more noticeable; the doctor gave a
sudden grunt of satisfaction, and Smith stopped the car.
A minute later the doctor had taken a sample of the surrounding ether
through his laboratory test-vestibule; and shortly announced that they
were now floating in air instead of space.
"Good deal like ours back home, too"--exultingly. "Pretty thin, of
course." He made a short calculation, referring to the aneroid barometer
which was mounted on the outer frame of a window, and said he judged
that their altitude was about five miles.
The descent continued, Smith using the utmost caution. The other three
kept their eyes glued to the deadlight; and their mystification was only
equaled by their uneasiness as that motionless, bleary glaze failed
absolutely to show anything they had not seen a thousand miles higher.
Not a single detail!
"It reminds me," said the girl in a low voice, "of something I once saw
from the top of a hill. It was the reflection of the sun from the
surface of a pond; not clear water, but covered with--"
"Good Heavens!" interrupted Van Emmon, struck with the thought. "Can it
be that the whole planet is under water?"
Beyond a doubt his guess was justified. There was an oily smoothness
about that dazzling haze which made it remarkably like a lake of still
and rather dirty water under a bright sun.
But the doctor said no. "Any water I ever heard of would make clouds,"
said he; "and we know there's air enough to guarantee plenty of wind.
Yet nothing seems to be in motion." He was frowning continually now.
It was Billie who first declared that she saw the surface. "Stop," she
said to Smith evenly, and he instantly obeyed. All four gathered around
the deadlight, and soon agreed that the peculiarly elusive skin of the
planet was actually within sight. However, it was like deciding upon the
distance of the moon--as easy to say that it were within arm's reach as
a long ways off.
The doctor went to a window. There he could look out upon the sun, a
painfully bright object much larger than it looks from the Earth. It was
just "ascending," and half of it was below the horizon. A blinding
streak of light was reflected from a point on the surface not far from
the cube. Shading his eyes with his hand the doctor could see that the
mysterious crust was absolutely smooth.
On the opposite side of the car the horizon ended in a sunrise glow of a
slightly greenish radiance. From that side the pinkish tint of the
surface was quite pronounced.
Before going any lower the doctor, struck with an idea, declared: "We
always want to remember that this car is perfectly soundproof. Suppose
we open the outer door of the vestibule. I imagine we'll learn something
peculiar."
It was possible to open this door without touching the inner valves,
using mechanism concealed within the walls. The moment it was done--the
door faced the "north"--pandemonium itself broke loose. A most terrific
shrieking and howling came from the outside; it was wind, passing at a
rate such as would make a hurricane seem a mere zephyr. The doctor
closed the door so that they could think.
"It's the draft," he concluded; "the draft from the sun-warmed side to
the cold side."
As for Van Emmon, he was getting out a rope and a heavy leaden weight.
On the rope he formed knots every five feet, about twenty of them;
and after getting into one of the insulated, aluminum-armored and
oxygen-helmeted suits with which they had explored Mercury, he locked
himself on the other side of the inner vestibule door and proceeded to
"sound."
To the amazement of all except Billie "bottom" was reached in less than
twenty feet. "I thought so," she said with satisfaction; but she was not
at ease until Van Emmon had returned in safety from that booming,
whistling turmoil.
His first remark upon removing his helmet almost took them off their
feet. "The point is," said he, throttling his excitement--"the point is,
the rope was nearly jerked out of my hands!
"Understand what I mean? The surface is _revolving_!"
This upset every idea they had had; it never occurred to any of them
that the planet could revolve at such speed that it would appear
stationary. Smith went at once to the eastern window and watched
closely, for fear some irregularity in that apparently perfect sphere
might catch them unawares. They did not learn till later that Venus's
day is a little less than twenty-five hours, and therefore, since they
had approached her near the equator, the wind they had encountered was
moving at nearly nine hundred miles per hour!
Bit by bit, though, the cube answered to the wind-pressure. Soon they
noted the sun rising slowly; and by the time it was two hours high the
surface, which had been whizzing under them like some highly polished
top, became entirely motionless: The cube had "stopped."
One minute later the car touched the level. Smith very slowly reduced
the repelling current so that the immense weight of the cube was but
gradually shifted to the unknown surface beneath. Ton after ton was
added until--
"Stop!" came from the doctor. He had noted through the window a slight
curvature in the material.
So the machinery was left in action. "At any rate," said Smith, "we know
that the confounded stuff isn't antimagnetic, whatever it is." Of course
this was true--even though the gelatinlike shell could not support the
cube's weight, yet it did not insulate the planet from the repelling
current.
The thermometer registered three hundred and thirty-five degrees
Fahrenheit. "Two hundred and eighty degrees higher than it would be at
home in the same latitude," remarked the doctor. "We'll have to use the
suits." He took it for granted that exploration should begin at once.
No one stayed behind. The machines could be relied upon, as they knew
from nearly two weeks of use, and certainly there was nothing in
sight which could possibly interfere with the cube. Nevertheless, the
matter-of-fact engineer took care to remove part of the door-operating
apparatus when he left the vestibule, and nobody commented upon it. It
seemed the sensible thing to do; that was all.
There was just about enough additional weight in their suits to balance
the slightly reduced gravitation, so they moved about, four misshapen,
metallic hulks, with as much freedom as though back home. Always they
kept within a few feet of each other so as to throw no strain on their
interconnecting telephone wires. The big, glass-faced helmets gave a
remarkable sense of security.
They made a complete circuit of the cube, and at the end of it looked at
each other in perplexity. Never, save in the middle of an ocean, in the
doldrums, did any man ever see such a totally barren spot. Not a tree,
much less a sign of human occupation; there was not even the slightest
mound. The planet was, in actual fact, as smooth and as bare as a
billiard ball!
Moreover, the surface itself remained as mysterious as before. Of course
they did not touch it with bare hands--all wore insulated mittens--but
the dazzling stuff was certainly as hard as steel and as highly
polished. It was neither transparent nor opaque, but translucent, "like
pink mother-of-pearl," as Billie suggested.
She was the first to propose that they move to another spot. "We ought
to try a place where it's not yet dawn," said she, shielding her eyes
from the glare. (It will be remembered that the suits protected them
from the heat itself.) "Can't see anything."
"Hush!" hissed the doctor. They turned and followed his gaze to a spot
not thirty feet from where they stood.
At the same instant they felt a faint jar in the material under their
feet. And next second they saw that a large section of the supposedly
solid surface was in motion.
A portion about ten feet square was being lifted bodily in front of
their eyes, and before another word was said this block of the unknown
substance was raised until they could see that it was all of a yard
thick. Up it went at the same deliberate rate; and the four
involuntarily moved closer together as they saw that there was something
underneath.
It was a cage, for all the world like that of an elevator except that it
was made of clear glass. Another second and it had stopped, with its
floor level with the surface; and the people from the earth saw that it
contained a man.
He was quite tall, slenderly built, and dressed in a queer satiny
material which fitted him like an acrobat's suit. He was extremely thin
as to legs, narrow as to shoulders, deep in the chest and short in the
waist. All this, however, they saw after their inspection of his head.
It was human! Marvelously refined in every detail, yet it was set upon a
graceful neck, and modeled upon much the same lines as that of any man.
It was not that of a brute, nor yet that of a bird; it was--human!
He stood at ease, resting slightly on one foot, and dispelled any notion
that he might be unreal by shifting his weight occasionally. Meanwhile
he watched the four with a grave, interested smile; and they, in turn,
came closer.
His chin was small, even retreating; but his mouth was wide and curved
into an exaggerated Cupid's bow. Even as he continued to smile the
curves did not leave his lips; they, however, were thin rather than
thick. His nose was quite small, with a decidedly Irish cast; but his
eyes, set far apart above quite shallow cheekbones, were exceedingly
large and of a brilliant blue. In fact, it was mainly his eyes that gave
character to his face; although none could overlook his breadth of
forehead, running back to a cranium that fairly bulged over the ears,
and seemed ready to rise like a tightly inflated balloon. His skin was
pure white.
And so they stood for uncounted minutes. At last the doctor noted that
the stranger was eying them with far less interest than they showed in
him; he stood as though he felt on display; and the doctor gave an
exclamation of perplexity that broke the spell. The four impulsively
drew up to the glass; Van Emmon touched it with his mitten; and that is
how the four explorers came to receive the vibrations that came next.
For the man in the cage, in turn, put out his hand and touched the glass
opposite Van Emmon. Then he opened his mouth.
"I am very glad to see you," said he in a soft, pulsating voice--and in
the best of English.
IV
A PUZZLED WORLD
For a moment blank amazement gripped the four. Then amazement gave way
to genuine apprehension. Were they insane to imagine that this man of
another world had spoken to them in their own language? Each looked at
the other, and was astounded to see that all had heard the same thing.
Presently the stranger spoke again; if anything, the kindly smile on his
face became even broader. "Suppose we postpone explaining how I am able
to use your tongue. It will be easier for you to understand after you
have been with us a while." He spoke slowly and carefully, yet with a
faint lisp, much as some infant prodigy might speak.
But there was no doubt that he had really done it. The doctor managed to
clear his throat.
"You are right," said he, with vastly less assurance than the amazing
stranger. "We will try to understand things in the order you think best
to present them. You--should know best."
Kinney introduced himself by name and profession, also the other three.
The stranger nodded affably to each. "You may call me Estra," said he,
pronouncing it "Ethtra." "There is no occupation on the Earth
corresponding with mine, but in my spare moments I am an astronomer like
yourself."
The doctor silently marveled. He had not told the stranger about his
hobby. Meanwhile the architect attempted to break the ice even finer.
"We take it for granted," said she rather nervously, "that your people
are somewhat further advanced than us on the earth. However, we expect
to be given credit for having visited your planet before you visited
ours!" She said this with an engaging smile which won an instant
response; the Venusian's lips almost lost their curves in his generous
effort.
"You will find that we greatly respect all that you have accomplished,"
he declared earnestly. "As for your apparatus"--glancing at the
cube--"you have the advantage on the earth of certain chemical elements
which are entirely lacking here, otherwise we should have called upon
you long ago."
He slipped a panel of glass to one side. "Step in quickly!" he
exclaimed, gasping; and the four obeyed him without thought. It was only
when the panel was replaced that they noticed the floor of the cage; it
was of clear glass, like the sides, and looked totally incapable of
bearing their combined weight.
The Venusian smiled at Smith's worried look. "The material is amply
strong enough," said he. "I am only concerned about your machine there.
Is it safe to be left alone?"
"So far as we know, yes," answered Van Emmon, who did not feel quite as
much confidence in the stranger as the rest.
"Then we can go down at once." With these words the man in satin
turned to a small black box in one wall of the elevator and touched a
button.[10]
[Footnote 10: For details of this and other matters of an electrical
and mechanical nature, the technical reader is referred to Mr. Smith's
reports to the A. S. M. E.]
Instantly the car began to descend, at first slowly and then with
swiftly increasing velocity. By the time the explorers had accustomed
their eyes to the sudden semi-darkness, the cage was dropping at such a
speed that the air fairly sang past its sides.
Far overhead was a square, black shadow in the waxlike crust which they
had left; it was the shadow of the cube. All about them was a dimly lit
network of braces, arches and semitransparent columns; to all
appearances the system seemed to support the crust. Billie whirled upon
the Venusian:
"I've got it now! The whole globe is covered with glass!"
Estra smiled his approval. "For thousands upon thousands of centuries,
my friend. The thing was done when our ancestors first suspected that
our planet was doomed to come so near the sun. It was the only way we
could protect ourselves from the heat."
"Great!" exploded the doctor, admiration overcoming regret that he had
not thought of it himself. But Smith had other thoughts:
"How long did it take to finish the job? And what did it cost?"
"Two centuries; and about twice the cost of your last war. I need only
suggest to you that we colored the material so as to reflect most of the
heat. That is why the material looks blue from below, although pink from
above."
"Say"--from Billie--"how long are we to keep on dropping like this?"
"We will arrive in a moment or two," answered the smiling one. "The roof
is raised several miles above the sea-level in order to cover all the
mountains."
By this time the four were able to make out things pretty well. They saw
that the dimness was only relative; the Venusian world was actually as
well lighted as any part of the earth on a cloudy day. And they saw that
they were descending in a locality of astonishing beauty.
The stranger halted the car so that they could inspect the scene as
though from an airplane. In no way did the landscape resemble that of
the earth. To begin with, pillars of huge dimensions were placed every
quarter-mile or so; it was these that supported the intricate archwork
above. They were made of the same translucent stuff as the crust, but
had a light topaz tint. The Venusian said:
"You will not need to be told that the science of metallurgy has
advanced quite far with us. All our metals can be made transparent, if
we like; those pillars are colored variously in different regions so as
to be clearly distinguishable and prevent collisions of flying
apparatus."
But Van Emmon and Billie were both more interested in what lay between
the columns. They scarcely noticed that there were no people in sight at
the time. The ground was covered with an indescribable wealth of color;
and it was only by a close examination that the buildings could be
distinguished as such.
For they were all made of that semi-transparent stuff. Of every
conceivable tint and shade, the structure showed an utter lack of
uniformity in size, shape or arrangement. Moreover, the ground was
absolutely packed with them; they spread as far as the eye could reach.
But if there was profusion, there also was confusion--apparently.
Streets ran anywhere and everywhere; there was no visible system to
anything. And where there was no space for a building, invariably there
was a shrub, a bush or a small tree of some kind, all in full flower.
The only sign of regularity to be seen was in the roofs--practically all
of them were flat. Whether the building was some rambling, loosely
gathered agglomeration of vari-colored wings, or a single, towering
skyscraper of one tint, almost inevitably it was crowned with a
perfectly level surface.
"I see," said Van Emmon, thoughtfully. "You have no rain."
"Precisely"--from Estra. "We have the air completely under our control.
We give our vegetation artificial showers when we think it should have
it, not when nature wills; and similarly we use electricity instead of
sunlight that we may stimulate its growth."
"In short"--Van Emmon put it as the car slid slowly down the remaining
distance--"in short, you have abolished the weather."
The Venusian nodded. "And I'll save you the trouble of suggesting," he
added, "that we are nothing more nor less than hothouse people!"
V
THE HUMAN CONSERVATORY
"But there is this difference," he cautioned as they stepped out of the
elevator into a sort of a plaza, "that, whereas you people on the earth
have only begun to use the hothouse principle, we here have perfected
it.
"I suggest that you waste no time looking for faults."
Van Emmon stared at the doctor. "How does this idea fit your theory,
Kinney--that Venus is simply the earth plus several thousand extra
generations of civilization?"
"Fit?" echoed the doctor. "Fits like a glove. We humans are
fast becoming a race of indoor-people despite all the various
"back-to-nature" movements. Look at the popularity of inclosed
automobiles, for example.
"The only thing that surprises me"--turning to their guide--"is that
you use your legs for their original purpose."
Estra smiled, and pointed out something standing a few feet away. It was
a small, shuttle-shaped air-craft, with clear glass sides which had
actually made them overlook it at first. Peering closer they saw that
the plaza and surrounding streets were nearly filled with these all but
invisible cars.
The Venusian explained. "You marvel that I use my legs and walk the same
as you do. I am glad you have brought up this point, because it is a
fact that our people use mechanisms instead of bodily energy, almost
altogether. These cars you see are universally used for transportation.
I am one of the very few who appreciate the value of natural exercise."
"Do you mean to say," demanded Van Emmon, "that the average Venusian
does no walking?"
"Not a mile a year," said Estra gravely.
"Just what he is obliged to do indoors from room to room." And he
involuntarily glanced down at his own extremely thin legs.
The architect's eyes widened with a growing understanding. "I see now,"
she murmured. "That's why there was no one else to greet us."
The Venusian smiled gratefully. "We thought it best. You'd have been
shocked outright, I am sure, had you been introduced to a representative
Venusian without any explanation."
They fell silent. Still, without moving from the point where they had
left the elevator, the four from the earth examined the surrounding
buildings in a renewed effort to see some system in their arrangement.
Directly in front of them was a particularly large structure. Like all
the rest, it was of hopelessly irregular design, yet it had a large
domed central portion which gave it the appearance of an auditorium; and
the effect was further borne out by a subdued humming sound which seemed
to come from it.
Smith asked Estra if it were a hall.
"Yes and no," was the answer. "It fills the purpose of a hall, but is
not built on the hall plan." And Smith tried to stare through the
translucent walls of the thing.
The other buildings within immediate reach were of every possible
appearance. Some would have passed for cottages, others for stores,
still others for the most fanciful of studios. And nowhere was there
such a thing as a sign, even at the street corners, much less on a
building.
"Not that we would be able to read your signs, if you had them,"
commented the doctor, "but I'd like to know how your people find their
way without something of that kind to guide them."
Estra's smile did not change. "That is something you will understand
better before long," said he, "provided you feel ready to explore a
little further."
The four looked at each other in question, and suddenly it struck them
all that they were a rather pugnacious-looking crew in their cumbersome
suits of armor and formidable helmets. The doctor turned to Estra.
"You ought to know"--he appealed--"whether we can take off these suits
now."
"It would be best," was the reply. "You will find the air and
temperature decidedly more warm and moist than what you have been used
to, but otherwise practically the same. There is a slightly larger
proportion of oxygen; that is all. Just imagine you are in a hothouse."
Smith and the doctor were already discarding their suits. Van Emmon and
Billie followed more slowly; the one, because he did not share the
doctor's confidence in their guide; the other, because of a sudden
shyness in his presence. The Venusian noted this.
"You need not feel any embarrassment," said he to Billie's vast
astonishment. "There is no distinction here between the dress of the two
sexes." And again all four marveled that he should know so much about
them.
Once out of the armor the visitors felt much more at ease. The slightly
reduced gravitation gave them a sense of lightness and freedom which
more than balanced the junglelike oppressiveness of the air. They found
themselves guarding against a certain exuberance; perhaps it was the
extra oxygen, too.
They strode toward the large structure directly ahead. At its
entrance--a wide, square portal which opened into a fan-shaped
lobby--Estra paused and smiled apologetically--as he mopped his
forehead and upper lip with a paper handkerchief, which he immediately
dropped into a small, trap-covered opening in the wall at his side.
These little doors, by the way, were to be seen at frequent intervals
wherever they went. Incidentally not a scrap of paper or other refuse
was to be noted anywhere--streets and all were spotless.
As for Estra--"I am not accustomed to moving at such speed," he
explained his discomfort. "If you do not mind, please walk a little more
leisurely."
They took their time about passing through this lobby. For one thing,
Estra said there would have to be a small delay; and for another, the
walls and ceilings of the space were most remarkably ornamented. They
were fairly covered with what appeared, at first glance, to be
absolutely lifelike paintings and sculptures. They were so arranged as
to strengthen the structural lines of the place, and, of course, they
were of more interest to Billie than to the others.[11]
[Footnote 11: The specialist in architecture and related subjects is
referred to E. Williams Jackson's report to the A.I.A., for details of
these basrelief photographs.]
Desiring to examine some of the work far overhead, Billie clambered up
on a convenient pedestal in order to look more closely. She took the
strength of things for granted, and put her weight too heavily on a
molding on the edge of the pedestal; with the result that there was a
sharp crack; and the girl struck the floor in a heap. She got to her
feet before Van Emmon could reach her side, but her face was white with
pain.
"Sprained--ankle," said she between set lips, and proceeded to stump up
and down the lobby, "to limber up," as she said, although her three
companions offered to do anything that might relieve her.
To the surprise of all, Estra leaned against a pillar and watched the
whole affair with perfect composure. He made no offer of help, said
nothing whatever in sympathy. In a moment he noticed the looks they gave
him--their stares.
"I must beg your pardon," he said, still smiling. "I am sorry this
happened; it will not be easy to explain.
"But you will find all Venusians very unsympathetic. Not that we are
hard hearted, but because we simply lost the power of sympathy.
"We do not know what pity is. We have eliminated everything that is
disagreeable, all that is painful, from our lives to such an extent that
there is never any cause for pity."
The three young people could say nothing in answer. The doctor, however,
spoke thoughtfully:
"Perhaps it is superfluous; but--tell me--have you done away with
injustice, Estra?"
"That is just the point," agreed the Venusian. "Justice took the place
of pity and mercy; it was so long ago I am barely able to appreciate
your own views on the subject."
Billie, her ankle somewhat better, turned to examine other work; but at
the moment another Venusian approached from the upper end of the lobby.
Walking slowly, he carried four small parcels with a great deal of
effort, and the explorers had time to scrutinize him closely.
He was built much like Estra, but shorter, and with a little more flesh
about the torso. His forehead bulged directly over his eyes, instead of
above his ears, as did Estra's; also his eyes were smaller and not as
far apart. His whole expression was equally kind and affable, despite a
curiously shriveled appearance of his lips; they made the front of his
mouth quite flat, and served to take attention away from his pitifully
thin legs.
Estra greeted him with a cheery phrase, in a language decidedly
different from any the explorers were familiar with. In a way, it was
Spanish, or, rather, the pure Castilian tongue; but it seemed to be
devoid of dental consonants. It was very agreeable to listen to.
Estra, however, had taken the four parcels from his comrade, and now
presented him to the four, saying that his name was Kalara, and that he
was a machinist. "He cannot use your tongue," said the Venusian. "Few of
us have mastered it. There are difficulties.
"As for these machines"--unwrapping the parcels--"I must apologize in
advance for certain defects in their design. I invented them under
pressure, so to speak, having to perfect the whole idea in the rather
short time that has elapsed since you, doctor, began the sky-car."
"And what is the purpose of the machines?" from Billie, as she was about
to accept the first of the devices from the Venusian.
For some reason he appeared to be especially interested in the girl, and
addressed half of his remarks to her; and it was while his smiling gaze
was fixed upon her eyes that he gave the answer:
"They are to serve"--very carefully--"partly as lexicons and partly as
grammars. In short, they are mechanical interpreters."
VI
THE TRANSLATING MACHINES
"First, let me remind you," said the Venusian, "of our lack of certain
elements that you are familiar with on the Earth. We have never been
able to improve on the common telephone. That is why we must still
assemble in person whenever we have any collective activity; while on
the Earth the time will come when your wireless principle will be
developed to the point of transmitting both light and sound; and after
that there will be little need of gatherings of any sort."
Then he explained the apparatus. It consisted of a miniature
head-telephone, connected to a small, metallic case the size of a
cigar-box, the cover of which was a transparent diaphragm. Estra did
not open the case, but showed the mechanism through the cover.
"Essentially, this is a 'word-for-word' device," said he, pointing to a
swiftly revolving dial within the box. "On one face of that dial are
some ten thousand word-images, made by vibration, after the phonograph
method. Directly opposite, on the other face, are the corresponding
words in the other language. The disk is rotating at such an enormous
speed that, for all practical purposes, any word which may chance to be
spoken will be translated almost instantaneously."
He indicated two delicate, many-tentacled "feelers," as he called them,
one on each face of the disk. One of these "felt" the proper word-image
as it whirled beneath, while the other established an electrical contact
with the corresponding waves beneath, at the same time exciting a
complicated-looking talking machine.
"That," commented Estra, "is not so easy to explain. It transforms this
literal translation into an idiomatic one. Perhaps you will understand
its workings a little later when you learn how and why I am able to use
your own language."
By this time the four had reached the point where nothing could surprise
them. They were becoming accustomed to the unaccustomed. Had they been
told that the Venusians had abolished speech altogether, they would have
felt disappointed, but not incredulous. However, the doctor thought of
something.
"Have you any extra 'records,' to be used in case we visit some other
nations while we are here?"
For just a second the Venusian was puzzled; then his smile broadened.
"The one record will do," said he, "wherever you go."
"A universal language!" Billie's eyes sparkled with interest.
"Long, long ago," Estra said. "It was established soon after our league
of nations was formed."
"Does the league actually prevent war and promote peace?" demanded Van
Emmon. This had been a disputed question when the four left the earth.
"We no longer have a league of nations," said their guide slowly. And
instantly the four were eying him eagerly. This was really refreshing,
to find that the Venusians were actually lacking in something.
"So it didn't work?" commented the doctor, disappointed.
But the Venusian's smile was still there. "It worked itself out," said
he. "We have no further use for a league. We have no more nations. We
are now--one."
And he helped them adjust the machines.
The cases were slung over their shoulders and the telephones clamped to
their ears. When all ready, Estra began to talk, and his voice came
nearly as sharp and clear through the apparatus as before. It was
modified by a metallic flatness, together with a certain amount of
mechanical noise in which a peculiar hissing was the most noticeable.
Otherwise he said:
"I am now using my own language. If I make any mistakes, you must not
blame the machine. It is as nearly perfect as I was able to make it."
He then asked them what blunders they noted. Billie, who was the most
enthusiastic about the thing, declared that they would have no trouble
in understanding; whereupon Estra quietly asked:
"Do you feel like going now to try them out?"
Once more an exchange of glances between the four from the earth.
Clearly the Venusians were extremely considerate people, to leave their
visitors in the care of the one man, apparently, who was able to make
them feel at home. There seemed to be no reason for uneasiness.
But Van Emmon still had his old misgivings about Estra. There was
something about the effeminate Venusian which irritated the big
geologist; it always does make a strong man suspicious to see a weaker
one show such self-confidence. Van Emmon drew the doctor and Billie
aside, while Smith and Estra went on with the test. Said Van Emmon:
"It just occurred to me that the cube might look pretty good to these
people. You remember what this chap said about their lack of some of our
chemicals. What do you think--is it really safe to put ourselves
entirely in their power?"
"You mean," said the doctor slowly, "that they might try to keep us here
rather than lose the cube?"
Van Emmon nodded gravely, but Billie had strong objections. "Estra
doesn't look like that sort," she declared vehemently.
"He's too good natured to be a crook; he needs a guardian rather than a
warden."
It flashed into the doctor's mind that many a woman had fallen in love
with a man merely because he seemed to be in need of some one to take
care of him.
That is, the self-reliant kind of woman; and Billie certainly was
self-reliant. Something of the same notion came vaguely to the
geologist at the same time; and with a vigor that was quite uncalled
for, he urged:
"I say, 'safety first.' We shouldn't have left the cube unguarded. I
propose that one of us, at least, return to the surface while the others
attend this meeting--or trap, for all we know."
"All right," said Billie promptly. "Get Estra to show you how to use the
elevator, and wait for us in the vestibule."
Van Emmon's face flamed. "That isn't what I meant!" hotly. "If anybody
goes to the cube, it should be you, Billie!"
If Billie did not notice the use of her nickname, at least the doctor
did. The girl simply snorted.
"If you think for one second that I'm going to back out just because I'm
a woman, let me tell you that you're very badly mistaken!"
Van Emmon turned to the doctor appealingly, but the doctor took the
action personally. He shook his head. "I wouldn't miss this for
anything, Van. Estra looks safe to me. Go and ask Smith; maybe he is
willing to be the goat."
The geologist took one good look at the engineer's absorbed,
unquestioning manner as he listened to the Venusian, and gave up the
idea with a sigh. For a moment he was sour; then he smiled shyly.
"I'm more than anxious to meet the bunch myself," he admitted; and led
the way back to Estra. The Venusian looked at him with no change of
expression, although there was something very disconcerting in the
precocious wisdom of his eyes. Their very kindliness and serenity gave
him an appearance of superiority, such as only aggravated the
geologist's suspicions.
But there was nothing to do but to trust him. They followed him through
two sets of doors, which slid noiselessly open before them in response
to some mechanism operated by the Venusian's steps. This brought them to
another of the glass elevators, in which they descended perhaps ten
feet, stepping out of it onto a moving platform; this, in turn, extended
the length of a low dimly lighted passageway about a hundred yards long.
When they got off, they were standing in a small anteroom.
The Venusian paused and smiled at the four again. "Do you feel like
going on display now?" he asked; then added: "I should have said: 'Do
you feel like seeing Venus on display, for we all know more or less
about you already.'"
But the visitors were braced for the experience. Estra looked at each
approvingly, and then did something which made them wonder. He stood
stock still for perhaps a second, his eyes closed as though listening;
and then, without explanation, he led the way through an opal-glass door
into a brilliantly lighted space.
Next moment the explorers were standing in the midst of the people of
Venus.
VII
THE ULTIMATE RACE
The four were at the bottom of a huge, conelike pit, such as instantly
reminded the doctor of a medical clinic. The space where they stood was,
perhaps, twenty feet in diameter, while the walls enclosing the whole
hall were many hundreds of feet apart. And sloping up from the center,
on all sides, was tier upon tier of the most extraordinary seats in all
creation.
For each and every one of those thousands of Venusians was separately
enclosed in glass. Nowhere was there a figure to be seen who was not
installed in one of those small, transparent boxes, just large enough
for a single person. Moreover--and it came somewhat as a shock to the
four when they noted it--the central platform itself was both covered
and surrounded with the same material.
"Make yourselves at home," Estra was saying. He pointed to several
microphones within easy reach. "These are provided with my translators,
so when you are ready to open up conversation, go right ahead as though
you were among your own people." And he made himself comfortable in a
saddlelike chair, as much as to say that there was no hurry.
For a long time the explorers stood taking it in. The Venusians, without
exception, stared back at them with nearly equal curiosity. And despite
the extraordinary nature of the proceeding, this mutual scrutiny took
place in comparative silence; for while the glass gave a certain sense
of security to the newcomers, it also cut off all sound except that low
humming.
The nearest row of the people got their closest attention. Without
exception, they had the same general build as Estra; slim, delicate, and
anemic, they resembled a "ward full of convalescent consumptives," as
the doctor commented under his breath. Not one of them would ever give a
joke-smith material for a fat-man anecdote; at the same time there was
nothing feverish, nervous, or broken down in their appearance. "A pretty
lot of invalids," as Billie added to the doctor's remark.
Many observers would have been struck, first, by the extreme diversity
in the matter of dress. All wore skin-tight clothing, and much of it was
silky, like Estra's. But there was a bewildering assortment of colors,
and the most extraordinary decorations, or, rather, ornaments. So far as
dress went, there was no telling anything whatever about sex.
"Are they all men?" asked Billie, wondering, of Estra. The Venusian
shook his head with his invariable smile. "Nor all women either," said
he enigmatically.
But in many respects they were astonishingly alike. Almost to a soul
their upper lips were withered and flat. One and all had short,
emaciated-looking legs. Each and every one had a crop of really
luxuriant hair; the shades varied between the usual blonde and brunette,
with little of the reddishness so common on the earth; but there were no
bald people at all. On the other hand, there were no beards or mustaches
in the whole crowd; every face was bare!
"Like a lot of Chinamen," said Van Emmon in an undertone; "can't tell
one from another." But Billie pointed out that this was not strictly
true; a close inspection of the faces showed an extremely wide range of
distinction. No two chins in the crowd were exactly alike, although not
one of them showed any of the resolute firmness which is admired on the
Earth. All were weak, yet different.
Neither were there any prominent noses, although there were none that
could have been called insignificant. And while every pair of eyes in
the place was large, as large as Estra's, yet there was every desirable
color and expression.
To sum it all up, and to use the doctor's words: "They've developed a
standard type, all right, just as the characteristic American face is
the standard Earth type; but--did you ever see such variations?"
Nevertheless, the most striking thing about these people to the eyes of
the visitors was their mutual resemblance. For one thing, there seemed
to be no nervous people present. There were many children in the crowd,
too; yet all sat very still, and only an occasional movement of the
hands served to indicate consciousness. In this sense, they were all
remarkably well bred.