[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Air Wonder Stories, January 1930.]
[Illustration: Neil R. Jones]
_Slowly the human race is emerging from its earthbound traditions
and is casting its eyes towards the heavens. It was not so many
years ago that weather changes were little understood, and there
was much misinformation connected with them during the past
twenty-five years. We have just begun investigating the atmospheric
ocean, and we are slowly arriving at a point where long range
forecasting becomes possible._
_As soon as our activities are extended beyond our earth it will
become necessary to send space flyers to chart the open spaces for
scientific research. It is already known that the space between the
earth and the sun contains a good deal of foreign matter, such as
meteors, and even immense meteoric dust clouds. These, in cutting
off the radiation of the sun, exert a tremendous influence upon our
weather conditions. Furthermore, such meteors may contain strange
and valuable elements. It is the exploration for such things that
our author has used as a basis for his aviation story of outer
space. And, incidentally, it is a story which will keep you on the
jump right through._
* * * * *
High up, on the top floor of a hundred-story building sat a man at
a desk. Before him was an array of dials, a system of switches and
intricate electrical appliances. Several hundred glass bulbs of various
sizes flashed on and off intermittently in the wall over his desk.
Fitting over the top of his head and around his ears was a shining,
silver cap with a wire leading from the top to the apparatus before
him. He was one of the world's interplanetary radio operators of the
twenty-sixth century, sending and receiving daily messages between Mars
and the Earth.
One of the largest glass bulbs suddenly shot into brilliance, and with
a fierce crackling, an electric spark closed the gap between two metal
cylinders, which paralleled one another about a foot apart. At the same
time, the operator leaned forward, and with practiced hand, quickly
manipulated several of the dials to various points, after which he
threw one of the switches into place. A low droning sound filled the
room, and a large cylinder upon which was rolled a continuous sheet
of thin aluminum began to slowly revolve. As the brilliant blue-white
flare in the glass bulb died away, the droning noise turned to a high
keyed whine which broke off abruptly. The cylinder stopped while the
multitude of tiny glass bulbs again glowed separately at intervals, as
they had been doing just before the message had come in.
The operator shoved a lever at his side, and a small roller cut across
the large cylinder, releasing a sheet of the thin aluminum which fell
on to the desk before him. Cut through its thin metal texture was the
message from Mars in the three universal languages of the Earth. The
radio operator now turned his attention to a smooth plate which rested
in the shape of a semi-circle about two feet long and half as wide.
On the flat side of the thick composition plate, a black screen arose
several feet in a vertical plane at a right angle to the plate, so
that the screen faced the operator. Placing the aluminum sheet upon
the plate, the operator threw another switch, simultaneously pressing
a button marked "Meteorological Bureau." The screen suddenly glowed,
throwing a series of orange-hued rays on a slant down upon the plate
bearing the narrow sheet of aluminum which grew indistinct, finally
fading, until it disappeared from sight. The radio man threw back the
switch once more and the screen grew black again. The plate was now as
empty and bare as before he had laid the message upon its surface.
In the Meteorological Bureau, two thousand miles away, the officials
read the message from the aluminum sheet which had been transmitted
by radio. One of them, an elderly man, walked over to the end of the
room, the wall of which was bordered into a squared shape by panels.
The color of the wall inside the dark panelling was a dull gray. He
advanced to a round, metal, inlaid section of the floor. As soon as
his feet came in contact with the metal, a picture suddenly flashed
upon the surface of the wall, and the sounds of exclamations and loud
laughter broke in upon his ears. The elderly scientist was looking into
a comfortable room fitted up with lounges and easy chairs. Four young
men were the sole occupants, being engaged in a game at one of the
tables in the room.
The game ceased as the four came to sudden attention, facing their
superior who now spoke.
"Jan Trenton."
"Here, sir."
"Get your ship ready for instant duty. I have a message from the
Martian observatory at Fomar which states that several large meteors
are approaching from the region of Jupiter and the asteroid group. It
states that they will pass close to Mars to-night at 23:43, Earth time,
two hundred thousand miles above its South Pole. From past experience,
you know what is required of you. Bring back samples for the Bureau to
analyze as well as any precious stones or metals you may discover."
The scientist turned towards his companions once more, and as his
feet left the metal section of the floor, the picture immediately
disappeared and the television screen was once more replaced by the
somber, gray color.
At the space ship base, in the same huge city which held the
Meteorological Bureau, Jan Trenton prepared for his trip. Getting into
a private elevator, he propelled himself at a dizzy speed up through
the interior of the tall building to the roof. The last five stories
were open-air landing bases for the aircraft and space flyers. The
first level was for the air flyers which plied among the ports of the
Earth; the second was reserved for space ship freight carriers going to
and from Mars; the third housed the freight ships which worked between
Venus and the Earth; while the fourth was left to passenger service
between the Earth and the two planets. The top landing level was used
for miscellaneous purposes, the Meteorological Bureau controlling a
section of it for their use.