"I don't know," Jak answered sadly and absently. "But I sure want to
know. How's about covering me while I go out and see if I can get one?"
"Well, maybe in your suit you'd be safe."
Once suited up, Jak went outside and across the short distance to where
the balls seems to be slightly closer together. He tried first one way
and then another to catch one, but at his lightest touch they burst
and deflated. After several unsuccessful attempts, though, he called
excitedly through his suit-sender.
"Jon, you read me?"
"Coming through."
"I'm going to try fanning one toward the air-analyzer. I want to see if
we can get an idea of what's inside. I've got a screwy hunch."
"Right, I'll switch the light away from them, up into the air."
Carefully Jak herded one of the globes near the ship, and was finally
successful in getting it close to the hull-vent of the air-analyzer.
When it was almost touching the ship's side, he reached out and touched
it, and it promptly broke.
"Get anything?" he yelled.
"Yes, gas of some sort. Taking the reading now. It seems to be mostly
nitrogen."
"Hah, that's it, then! I'm coming in."
When Jak was back inside, Jon helped him remove his helmet, then
demanded curiously, "What's it all about, Owl?"
"I'm not positive, of course, but I bet those things take the place of
bees for pollinating, and also furnish the fertilizer for the ground
when they burst and their nitrogen gets into the soil some way."
8
Later that evening Jon Carver sat for nearly an hour, studying intently
from one of his reelbooks, and the frown on his face grew deeper and
deeper.
Jak had been working over their father. He had given him a careful
sponge bath, then fed him another intravenous dosage of the combined
liquid protein, salt, sugar and glucose. Even though their mother had
been able to spoon-feed her husband small amounts of food each day, the
young hoped-to-be doctor felt additional nourishment was necessary.
When he finished his task and started to seek a comfortable seat in the
living quarters of the space yacht, to relax with a little reading of
his own, he noticed his brother's intent look and worried face.
"What's the matter, Jon?"
"Eh?" The younger boy looked up, startled, from his deep study. Then,
as Jak repeated the question, he answered unhappily, "I just don't know
enough, Owl. I can't figure out why Pop found such strong spectroscopic
lines of that new element while we were billions of miles away, and
yet we can't find any traces of it anywhere on these planets, except
what we found in that cache."
"Maybe it's in the sun."
"I tried that when we were out there, but 'Annie' didn't even peep."
The elder brother studied the problem a moment.
"Could it be so strong that even the little bit we found would have
shown those lines?"
"Maybe," doubtfully, "but I don't think so. Tomorrow morning, when the
sun comes up, I'm going to try to take a new reading from here. I tried
to read Two, but couldn't get anything. However, I'm not so hot with
the regular spectrograph, and that's why I'm boning up on it."
"Is this important?" Their mother had laid her sewing in her lap to
listen to them, trying to follow and understand what her sons were
talking about.
"Pop thought it was, Mom," Jon explained. "One of the things men have
been looking for ever since they first started dreaming of rockets and
spaceships, was the best possible fuel. We knew the one we're using now
isn't the ultimate, but it's the best they've been able to get so far.
Pop thought perhaps this new stuff might be it--_if_ we could find it,
and _if_ we could learn how to use it."
"Why can't we use it if you find it?" Jak wanted to know.
"There are so many problems. Maybe it would be so radioactive we
wouldn't be able to handle it or keep it in the storage bins without
endangering the people on the ship. Maybe the exciters and convertors
wouldn't handle it without a lot of new experimenting and new designs
we wouldn't have the scientific or technical know-how to make. Or it
might be that instead of getting a steady stream of power as we do with
our present activated-copper fuel, the stuff would want to blow up all
at once. If the metal's as powerful as I think it is, it might cause
an explosion that would make man's biggest H- or C-bomb look like a
firecracker."
"Then don't you go experimenting with it and blow us all up," his
mother said sharply.
Jon grinned at her. "You needn't worry about that, Mom, now that I've
had a chance to learn how little I know. Although I would've gone off
half-cocked that day you stopped me--for which I'm grateful, even
though I was sore at you for a while then. But I'm sure going to study
it as soon as we get the other markers set and can get back to Two."
"By that time Father will be well again," Jak said.
"Isn't it wonderful that he really is coming around all right? Seems to
be taking an awful long time for him to recover fully, though."
"I'm sure he'll be his own keen self again soon ... although he'll have
to stay in bed until that leg is strong enough to stand on again."
"Well, let's hit the sack, so we can get a good start in the morning.
'Night, Mom."
* * * * *
During their journeys over the surface of Planet Three the boys
conscientiously tended the machines and recorders that gave them the
data on land and water conditions, the proportions of each, the
approximate amounts of metallic ores their analyzers showed, the
information on weather, temperature and humidity. They took numerous
pictures as required by law--their mother often helping in this, after
Jak had taught her how to operate the cameras. These pictures Jak
developed and printed as he had time, and mounted them in their data
book for the Colonial Board to study when they got back. They also
mapped and recorded the size and distances of Three's two moons.
Jak named these "Zinnia" and "Begonia," much to Jon's sarcastic and
openly-expressed derision.
"This'll make a swell home for people who like cold weather." Jak tried
to change the subject.
"Yes, just as Two will for those who like it hotter." Jon's eyes shone.
"Pop sure picked a winner when he decided to explore this system. Even
with just these two worlds he has a prize."
"_If_ they accept our work as proof. Wonder what the fourth planet will
be like?" Jak continued in a different tone.
"Cold. Lots colder, probably, than Mars."
"Then it won't do us any good?"
"Depends on what's on it in the way of metals that can be mined. Maybe
we'll find something there. Might be natural gems or jewels, too."
"And anyway, cold never stopped man."
"That's right," Jon said admiringly. "They have mines on Pluto,
even--although they're mostly worked by automatics while the men stay
warm in their bubble-cities."
As the _Star Rover_ approached closer to the distant, smaller planet
they had named "Jon," their instruments showed it to have a diameter
of about 4400 miles, and a density of about 4.6, a little lighter than
Terra. This meant the gravity would be a bit weaker, and they would
weigh less than on their home planet. Four was almost a quarter of a
billion miles from the sun, and would be very cold, as Jon had said.
While their ship drove in closer, the boys' mother came into the
control room. All three Carvers stared excitedly into their visiplates,
watching their rapid approach to this new world. Would they find
anything of value there, or was it simply a barren wasteland of ice
and frozen air and rocks, far too cold and forbidding for men even to
bother trying to explore it?
When Jak, eyes still glued to the telescopic sights of his
spectro-analyzer, voiced something of this, Jon drawled, "You know
better than that, Owl. We said just yesterday that there's no place, no
matter how bad, that man won't explore to see if there's anything he
can possibly use. They'll follow us here, don't worry."
After cruising about the surface for some time, recording their data
and taking the needed pictures, they saw a fairly level valley,
ice-covered and bare, and Jon set the ship down there. By now he was
becoming an expert astrogator and pilot, and with his new controls they
could hardly feel the jar of the ship's landing.
"How's the temp outside?"
Jak was examining the gauges. "About a hundred below, and not a bit of
moisture, naturally. Going to try going out?"
"I don't...." their mother started to speak against it, but made
herself stop. Her boys were showing such resourcefulness and unexpected
habits of caution that she felt she must let them decide things for
themselves, even though her motherly instinct was always to hold them
back from possible dangers.
"Sure we're going out for a bit," Jon answered his brother, then
faced their mother. "It'll be all OK, Mom," he said affectionately.
"We'll wear our suits, of course, with the heaters on. We won't go
far, because the moment we feel any cold we'll run back. But I want to
see what it's like out there, and if there's any sort of life. We're
supposed to report...."
"Life? Here?" incredulously.
It was Jak who answered this. "Sure, Mother, there can be life-forms
anywhere. Oh, not necessarily nor even probably anything we know on
Terra. But there should be some sort of moss or lichen in the plant
line."
"Yes, it has been learned from experience there's some sort of life
almost everywhere," Jon chimed in.
"Even though most of it's so different from the basic protoplasm-type
we're used to that it's hard to realize it's really life at all," Jak
continued. "But then, remember back on Terra, the vast difference
between animal and vegetable life--so totally unlike each other. I
second Jon's plan to go out. I'd really like to see what's out there."
She sighed as if in recognition of the fact that these boys of hers
were fast becoming reliable, self-sufficient men. They were not her
babies any more. She was proud, of course--but she couldn't resist the
motherly impulse to warn, "Well, be careful, anyway."
"Sure, we will."
Jon locked all the controls in neutral, and the two boys went to put on
their suits. Knowing, as they did, the vital necessity of making sure
they were "tight" and fully equipped, they examined and inspected their
own and each other's spacesuits carefully before they opened the inner
lockdoor.
Once outside, they stood on the icy ground for several minutes to
make sure their heaters were working capably enough to keep them--and
especially their feet--warm. Finding they were as completely
comfortable as anyone ever can be inside that sort of a suit, they
started off across the frozen plain, headed for the near-distant hills
on the side of the valley closest to the ship.
Jak examined the ground about them intently as they walked, hoping
to find some sort of plant life, while Jon kept his eyes mostly on
the portable analyzer he carried, hoping they might discover valuable
deposits of inorganics. Was there any of that unknown fuel-metal here,
he wondered anxiously. Their big analyzer had not shown it as they were
coming in on the survey or landing spiral, but that did not necessarily
mean the portable wouldn't show it on closer approach, or that there
might not be some on a portion of the surface they had not yet covered
from above.
Their trips about and above the surface had, however, shown traces
of iron, manganese, gold, silver, copper and several other metals,
although not strongly enough to indicate great deposits. But Jon knew
experience had shown over the years that one of the inefficiencies of
such analyzers was that they would not show the _depth_ of a deposit.
Many times, when only a slight trace had been detected while flying
above the surface, prospectors on the ground had found veritable
bonanzas, once they started mining.
Even though the gravity was about eight per cent lighter than on Terra,
the boys found walking not too easy. The terrain was mostly rough,
although there were many spots of slick, glare ice. Too, there were
many hillocks, and cracks and crevasses between the slippery places.
So, even though they had added caulks to their metallic suit-boots,
walking was unsafe and hard. By the time they reached the base of the
first low hills they were winded and glad to rest a few minutes.
"Not a thing so far," Jak panted into his suit-mike. "I can't see even
a bit of color--just this white glare."
"'Annie' hasn't let out a peep, either. Guess this is a dead 'un all
right."
"At least this district looks it."
"Let's climb a ways, and if we don't find anything there, go back to
the ship and try somewhere else."
"I'll buy a chunk of that."
They started up the hill before them. The climbing was difficult
because of the ice and because in most places the side of the hill was
not a gradual slope, but a starkly steep climb. It was evident there
had been no gradual "weathering" here, to produce rounded edges and
rolling slopes, although there were occasional smooth places. These,
though, the boys knew could not be climbed at all without special
equipment which they did not carry.
"This isn't frozen-water ice, is it?" Jon asked as they panted upward.
"No, silly. There can be no water vapor here, any more than there is on
Neptune or Pluto back home. This is mostly frozen carbon dioxide."
"Well, it's just as cold and just as hard to climb as polar ice."
They climbed the quarter mile to the crest of the first hill and
peered eagerly over its top. In front and slightly below was another
valley--not as deep as the one in which their ship lay, but even
larger. From their higher position the floor of this new valley seemed
quite smooth.
"But that can be just an optical illusion," Jak answered Jon's
statement, adding, "the glare of white would make it look smoother from
a height."
Jon ignored the tone of superiority. "Good thing our suits have tinted
lenses. Do we go down?"
"Natch." Jak had already started. "Off there to the right and part way
down are some darker places. I want to look at them."
"Could lichens grow here?"
"Some could, possibly, though not exactly like the kind we'd find on
Earth. If there's life here, it's probably a type that can convert
energy directly from the elements in the ground or ice, instead of
using photo-synthesis or other methods of obtaining nourishment we know
about."
Half-sliding, half-climbing, they made their difficult way to the
little patch of gray-greenness, which Jak examined with growing delight.
"Hey, that's gneiss."
"What's nice about ... Oh!" Jon grew red-faced at having been caught
that way. "You and your education!" he snorted.
"See how brittle it is," Jak ignored the interruption as he touched a
stem, only to have it snap off like a slim glass fibre. "Can't tell
without a more thorough microscopic examination, but I'll bet this is
some sort of silicon-based life--crystalline instead of being like the
gneissic rocks back home."
Jon, meanwhile, had been surveying the valley with his binoculars.
Suddenly he gave a gasp, and focussed his glasses more steadily on
something that had caught his eye.
For some minutes he studied it, then called excitedly, "Hey, Owl, give
a look over there. See, beside that spire of rock," he pointed as
his brother rose and unlimbered his own pair of binoculars. "There's
movement of some sort there, though it's very, very slow, on that sort
of pyramid a yard or so high."
For long moments the two studied the spot through their high-powered
glasses, then Jak said slowly but with mounting excitement, "I think
you're right, Chubby, and that we've got to see."
In their excitement, the two started off faster and more carelessly
than was safe. They found out that fact when both, almost at the same
time, lost their footing and fell, coasting down the remainder of
the hill. Faster and faster they slid, shaken and becoming bruised,
although luckily neither broke any bones.
At the bottom they picked themselves up and started on again. Both
walked more gingerly now, and Jak limped a bit from a twisted ankle.
Yet they were so eager to see what this strange movement might be, they
soon forgot their bruises and hurried once more.
It was a good half mile across the valley floor to their destination.
But there, sure enough, they found _life_!
Strange, unearthly life it was, but they soon discovered that it
had reproduction, growth and movement--the three main criteria of
life-forms.
"Crystalline, by golly!" Jon yelled.
Jak was squatting beside the growing thing. It was somewhat pyramidal,
yet the sides were not smooth. Rather, they were many-faceted, like
the pieces of rock crystal with which the boys were familiar. It was a
grayish-white color--with just enough of the gray in it so it had been
visible from a distance, against the white background. But now, as the
boys were on the sunward side of one of the pyramids, for there were
many of them about, they could see that the light reflected from it was
kaleidoscopic coloration at times.
Jak reached out a gloved hand and rapped on the pyramid ... and it gave
forth a tinkling sound, then collapsed into a thousand tiny shards.
"You ... you broke it."
"Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kill it. Had no idea it was so
fragile." Jak rose, moved over to another pyramid, and squatted beside
it, examining it closely, but careful not to touch it. Jon sank onto
his heels beside him.
For a few seconds as they watched there was no change. But suddenly
they heard a small, clear _ping_, and a new crystal sprang into
existence near the base. Almost at once there was a repetition of
the sound and another appeared further up on the adjoining side of
the structure--or creature. As the boys continued watching this
was repeated over and over--with each tiny sound a new facet came
into being somewhere on the pyramid. Before their very eyes the
crystal-being was growing.
"Boy, that's something!" Jon exclaimed admiringly.
"Yes, it's a life-form, all right," Jak said more seriously, without
taking his eyes from it. "It's all new to us, but I'll bet there's
silicon of some sort beneath this carbon-dioxide ice, and that this
thing gets its nourishment from that."
"What makes it keep growing?"
"What makes a man or an animal or plant grow when it eats?"
"Oh!" Then, "Do you suppose it has any mentality?"
Jak was silent a moment, mulling that over. Then he looked at his
brother, a crease of concentration on his forehead. "I feel quite sure
that it probably has, but of a sort we wouldn't be able to understand,
even if we could get in contact with its so-called 'mind.' Even reading
that, I doubt very much if we'd be able to understand its way of
thinking, reasoning, or the motivations by which it lives." He went
back to studying the strange crystallization.
"_Ummm_, probably you're right," Jon agreed after some thought. A
moment later he asked, "Is it good for anything? I mean, can man use it
for something?"
Jak wrenched his gaze away from that astounding growth to look up in
shocked disgust. "Is that all you think about in the face of such a
marvel as this--whether it's worth anything or not? Here we've found an
entirely new type of life, and...."
"Hey, keep your suit tight, Owl. We have to report this, you know, and
I'm just trying to find out what to write down."
"Oh!" Jak spoke slowly, his voice now admitting the lightness of
that point of view. "I can't, offhand, see any practical value,
especially considering how easily these crystals are broken. But I
know geologists--and possibly chemists--will be intensely interested
in studying them. There's a lot they can learn here, I'm sure. We'll
naturally report all that, you're right, and the location of this
valley."
"Think they may occur all over the planet?"
"No telling, but probably if they can find the right sort of soil
nourishment. We didn't see any while coming down, but they might've
been there and we missed them, not expecting anything like this."
"We didn't see any other life-forms, either, that we could recognize.
Maybe these're the dominant species here."
Jak rose to his feet and looked all about him. There were hundreds of
the pyramids to be seen, some towering a dozen or more feet high and
as large across each base line; others very small--babies, he thought
with a grin.
Again he watched one of the smaller ones intently, noticing how it
grew. Jon walked about, looking at the different structures of that
mysterious, growing crystal.
Suddenly he stiffened, straining, listening. Then he called, "Hey, Jak,
you hear anything?"
"Huh?" his brother tore his gaze from the crystallization he was
watching. "Hear what?"
"Turn up the power of your suit receiver. There. There it is again....
Hey, sounds like our siren!"
"Yes, I heard it then. Mother must be in trouble, or something."
Jak's last words were flung back across his shoulder as he ran as fast
as he could across the icy wastes of the valley floor. Nor was Jon far
behind. In fact, after a few strides the younger, but longer-legged boy
was beside him, then forged ahead.
"Hurry, Owl! Mom wouldn't signal unless it was urgent."
"Maybe Father's worse."
They tried to conserve their breath after that for running and
climbing. Once Jon broke the silence. "Turn your oxygen a little
higher, Jak," he said as he twisted the small lever at his own shoulder
to increase the flow of the strength-giving energy.
They were panting and winded by the time they reached the top of the
hill. But they disregarded fatigue in the face of their mother's
probable danger--or their father's.
Jon looked quickly to one side and then the other. As Jak topped the
ridge he saw his brother run some twenty feet or so to where he had
spotted a fairly smooth downward slope. Down this the younger boy
launched himself feet first, sliding on his suit's back. Jak instantly
realized the reason, and threw himself after his brother.
In less than a tenth of the time it would have taken them to climb
down, the boys were at the foot of the hill. They struggled to their
feet and started off toward the ship. Both were again shaken and
sorely bruised from their rough slide, but they trotted on. Mother had
called--nothing else mattered.
As they came closer to the ship they saw her reason for summoning them.
All about the outer lockdoor were those strange crystalline structures,
growing swiftly. As the two boys came still closer, they could see that
streamers of the crystals had already reached the lower edge and were
trying to force their way through the almost imperceptible crack.
"They'll never get ... through there," Jon panted as he raced the last
few feet.
"Don't see ... how they can ... but watch 'em." Jak waded into the
alien, growing things. His gloved fists smashed right and left as he
spoke. Jon was already doing the same.
But whether these crystal-beings were of a different type from those
that Jak had broken in the distant valley, or just what was the reason,
the boys now found it more difficult to break these crystals down.
"These aren't ... like those ... back there." Jon had now seen that
these crystals did not always grow in pyramidal shape.
"No, they grow ... new crystals ... wherever needed." Jak had been
concentrating on the tendrils, or chains of crystals that were
reaching, always reaching, toward the lockdoor, while Jon had been
trying to break the bases of the pyramids from which these arms sprang.
Although the crystals were still fairly easy to break--especially the
tentacles, which were only a thin string--new ones replaced them so
swiftly, and their numbers increased so constantly, that it seemed
almost a losing battle.
"These're growing lots faster than the others." Jon gritted his teeth
as he now tried crushing the bases with his heavy metallic boots,
hoping thus to make it harder for the crystal-beings to reach the door.
For minutes the two boys fought in desperation; then Jon grunted in
disgust at his thoughtlessness, and yanked out his flame-gun. "Never
thought of this," he yelled as he trained it on the crystal-beings. The
terrifically hot flame washed off them in coruscating showers--but did
no damage.
"Try bullets," Jak unlimbered his gun from his back, and started firing
it into the base of the crystals nearest the lockdoor.
The heavy bullets shattered the crystals easily, and soon the boys
could begin to see that they were clearing the way.
"You keep firing while I open the door and climb in," Jon yelled.
"Then you climb in while I'm going to the control room and I'll lift
ship."
"Right," Jak replied and fired even faster as Jon touched the outer
mechanism-stud that opened the lock.
Hardly had it begun opening, however, than they heard the sound of
another gun being fired through the opening. They looked up in surprise
and saw it was their mother, shooting a shotgun. Jon scrambled up into
the lock.
"Good work, Mom, but get back in. I'm lifting ship."
He dashed through the inner doorway and into the control room. He threw
the switch and _Star Rover_ shuddered as its tubes roared into life.
Jon punched on the intercom visiplate that scanned the interior of the
lock, and saw his mother pulling Jak into the ship, then closing the
outer door. Quickly Jon put the ship into a slow cruising orbit and
switched on the auto-pilot. Remembering the open doors and the bitter
outside cold, he glanced to see that the automatic heaters were taking
care of the inside temperature, then ran back toward the lock.
There he found his brother desperately trying to warm their mother's
unsuited body, now growing blue from that terrible cold.
"Help me carry her into bed." Jak rose and grasped her arms, but Jon
pushed him aside. Stooping, he picked her up bodily. He ran, staggering
a bit, with her into the bunkroom. Jak was right behind, and pulled
some extra blankets from a drawer. Then, while he was piling covers
about her, Jon dashed into the galley.
He drew hot water from the tap and quickly made a cupful of instant
tea, then ran back with it to the bunkroom.
Some minutes later they saw with satisfaction that their mother's color
was growing more natural, and her body tremors were slowing from the
combined warmth of the extra blankets and hot drink. Only then did the
boys stop to help each other out of their suits.
"Thanks for the help, Mother, but don't you know enough to wear a suit
in weather as cold as this?" Jak's worry made his voice sharp.
"Yes, who's always fussing about us being careful?" Jon added. "Then
pull a stunt like this."
Their mother looked up at them, and the old impish grin they had seen
so seldom of late came onto her face.
"You've got me, Chums," she drawled. "From now on I reckon I'll keep my
big mouth shut."
Jon howled, and Jak added in the same sort of drawl, "Well, now, I
wouldn't go for to say it was 'big,'" and ducked as she slapped out at
him.
Soon the two boys sobered down. "We'd better go examine the lock and
make sure no crystals got in," Jak said.
"Yow, I forgot about that!" Jon sprang forward. "We sure don't want any
of them in or on the ship."
9
Despite Jon's desire to get away from this unfriendly world that bore
his name, he was careful to see that the signal-marker was set out and
functioning, and that the ship's log contained as complete a record
of the resources and data on the planet as was required by the Terran
Colonial Board. The same was true of Four's four moons. Jak checked
all the work, nor did they leave Four until both boys were satisfied
it was complete. Their mother was a great help in taking the numerous
photographs needed, having become quite competent in handling the
cameras. She was so relieved at the steady progress of her husband's
convalescence that she put extra enthusiasm into her photography. The
family still felt that Mr. Carver should be kept as quiet as possible
and away from any mental strain in connection with the ship and the
planet mapping and, in his weakness, he seemed content to leave it
that way for the time being. He asked few questions and accepted the
reassuring answers contentedly.
Nor, even though Jon wished to get back to friendly Two as soon as he
could, did he forget they still had to visit Planet Five, and scout and
record that.
So, as soon as they were completely done on Four, he lost no time
setting course for Five. Once on the way, he announced his names for
the four moons of Four, and now it was Jak's turn to scoff.
"Well, if you can name yours after flowers, I don't see why you've got
any kick coming because I name mine after fish," Jon asserted. "I leave
it to you, Mom--aren't Tuna, Betta, Sturgeon and Porpoise nice names?"
"I think they are fine, just as I think Zinnia and Begonia are aptly
named," she said diplomatically.
The two boys made faces at each other, then Jon turned back to his
computations. "I'm not as good at figuring these things out as Pop
is, but I think Five is about a half billion miles from the sun. It's
almost three hundred and fifty million miles from here, since it's
further around the sun. But we'll cut across on a direct route."
To his surprise, Jak came up and clapped him on the shoulder. "You're
doing a grand job of astrogating, Chubby. I'm really proud of you." His
voice was sincere and appreciative.
"Yes," their mother came over and kissed Jon, rumpling his hair
affectionately. "I've been unexpectedly relieved that you've managed to
get us to each world so surely and to land us so gently. Though maybe
I shouldn't have been so surprised, at that." She laughed gaily as her
younger son flushed from this unexpected praise.
"Aw, you guys are just saying that because I'm so wonderful." Jon
tried to joke, but they could tell how deeply he felt their compliments.
* * * * *
A day later, when Jon announced they were approaching this outermost
planet, the other two joined him in the control room, and all were soon
deeply engrossed in the sight revealed to them in their visiplates.
An hour or so later Jon was examining their spectro-analyzer, when he
let out a yelp of excitement. "Hey, that fuel-stuff's showing up. It
must've come from Five." And a moment later, "Listen to 'Annie' rattle.
It sure is there--but plenty."
They clustered about him, and even though they could not tell anything
from the lines on the spectrograph that he pointed out, they could hear
the machine chattering, and they grew excited from his exultation.
"Miners can use the same type of automatics they use on Pluto to get
it, can't they?" Jak asked.
"I'd imagine so, although I really don't know anything about it.
However, if we find we can use it, there's where they can get it, and
that's the important thing."
Their plates again showed only the blinding whiteness of ice they knew
was frozen carbon dioxide rather than frozen water or snow. For even
more than on Four, there could be no water here, even in its most
frozen form.
They cruised about above the surface, watching their instruments to
find and record any metallic ore deposits, especially the new one. The
terrain was so forbidding, so desolate, that even the irrepressible Jon
felt no desire to land on it, or to go outside.
Again their mother took most of the needed photographs, while the
boys recorded all the other data of geography, size and conditions
generally. Finally, Jon set the ship down on a fairly level plateau
close to what they figured was the equator.
"Well, here we are and that's all I care about," Jon announced with a
shiver. "We'll use the distant hands to put out the marker. Then we'll
see if we can find the location of that fuel deposit."
Jak agreed. "I wouldn't go out there for a million credits." He
shuddered as he looked out the port while the others crowded about to
view that forbidding scene. "Maybe we should, but I sure wouldn't get
any fun out of it."
"Doubt if our suits would be able to keep us warm, even with the
heaters at max."
"No," their mother said sharply, although they could detect the relief
in her voice that they had already made the decision. "This is one time
I would have set my foot down, and not allowed it. This place gives me
the creeps."
While Jon was making up the tape, Jak carried a signal-sender into
the lock and placed it beneath those "distant hands." Jon came in and
installed the tape, then started the mechanism running.
They returned to the control room, and Jak, whistling unmelodiously
between his teeth, operated the controls that opened the outer door,
then used the lifting servo-mechanism to set the signal-sender outside
on the icy ground. When the outer door was closed, he nodded to Jon and
the latter lifted the ship again.
"I'm going up a couple of miles, then circle about to look for deposits
of that fuel metal. Meanwhile, as we go we can get the rest of our
dope, and then scoot out of here."
Jak again took his place at the recorders, while his mother was at
the cameras. Jon set the ship into a quartering circle, and when he
had located the direction in which the analyzer showed the strongest
indications of the enigmatic metal, swung into that course.
They had gone less than five hundred miles when they noticed a reddish
glow in the distance. As they came closer, they saw that ahead and
below was a terrific, whirling mass of colored gas.
"Wow, look at that storm!" Jak yelled. But he could not help adding,
"Did you ever see anything more beautiful?"
"Better get well above it, hadn't you?" Mrs. Carver asked anxiously.
"It looks dangerous."
"I'm sure not going through it." Jon was already lifting the ship. "But
'Annie' says the stuffs right close."
At five miles high he leveled off and put the ship into a narrowing
spiral. From that vantage point they could see that the storm was a
purely localized affair, perhaps some twenty miles in diameter.
"Wonder what makes those colors?" Jak called from the
telescopic-visiplate into which he was staring.
"Suppose it could be a volcano?"
"Could there be volcanic action on so cold a planet?" their mother
asked in astonishment.
"I don't see how there could be," Jak answered slowly, "but that
certainly looks like flames of some sort down there."
"Maybe the experts from Terra can figure it out from our color
pictures," Mrs. Carver said. "I'm taking a lot of extra ones, with the
variable focus lens."
"That new metal's down there, though, whatever it is. Since those other
people mined it, our miners'll figure out how to get it, too, I'll bet."
"I wonder." Jak was suddenly diffident. "Don't laugh now, but do you
suppose maybe those flames could be some sort of life, and that they're
feeding on the metal, which you said was highly radioactive?"
"Now who's nutty?" Jon asked witheringly, while Mrs. Carver gasped at
the daring concept.
"Well, some of those flames are coming higher and aiming for us." Jak
tried to defend his position. "We'd have said such crystal-creatures as
we found on Four were impossible, but we know they aren't and that they
have some sort of--well, intelligence, from the way they tried to get
our ship. So why not flame-beings?"
"Do you think they're dangerous?" Their mother's voice held a
frightened note as she saw in her plate those swiftly approaching
flames.
"Don't see how they could possibly hurt the ship, or us." Jon tried to
speak calmly ... but he tilted the nose and the space-yacht was soon
nearly ten miles high, although it still continued circling.
"Man, oh man, they're certainly beautiful!" Jak was enthralled as those
bright, shining tongues of flame grew taller and taller. "There ...
there does seem to be a ... a purpose in the way they act, though."
His tone changed to a more anxious one.
The flames were now high above the storm of fire that constituted the
main ... body? Now these tongues broke loose, and as they continued
rising toward the ship they became more spherical in shape--were no
longer simply extensions of the planet-based fires. And as they rose
ever higher and faster, they seemed to the anxious watchers to be
really thinking, intelligent entities.
"Let's move away from here," their mother pleaded. "I'm getting the
feeling that they are actually pursuing us--and for no good purpose,
either."
Jon touched the controls, and the ship began rising more swiftly.
"No, don't leave; I want to study ..." Jak began, but Jon interrupted
him.
"So would I like to know more about them, but if Mom wants to leave,
away we go." Yet there was an undercurrent of relief in his voice.
But as if guessing his intention, the flames hurtled after them at such
tremendous speed that before the ship had barely begun accelerating,
they were almost up to it.
"Hang on tight!" Jon yelled, and increased the acceleration. Soon the
ship had left the flames behind. Peering in their telescopic plates,
the three could see the flames, reluctantly and as if baffled, return
at last to their home below.
"All gone, Mother. We're safe now," Jak said comfortingly.
"Thank you, God," she said devoutly and sank limply into a seat. "I was
afraid for awhile...."
"So was I," Jon's teeth began chattering and his body shaking so hard
that he, too, was glad he was sitting down. Now that it was all over
the shock of that strangeness--that utter alienness--was hitting him.
Nor was Jak in much better shape, in spite of his expressed desire to
stay and study the enigmatic flame-life.
It was many minutes before the trio were able to discuss the matter
calmly, and to realize they had been in actual danger.
"I see now we sure would have been, if Jon hadn't zoomed us out of
there so fast," Jak said.
Finally, Mrs. Carver shook herself. "I'll go get lunch. It must be
time, hungry as I feel."
"Me, too," Jon laughed. "But then, I'm always hungry."
As soon as the three had finished eating, Mrs. Carver and Jak went
to sit with the invalid and watch hopefully for those semi-conscious
moments which were becoming more and more frequent. Jon went back to
check his course back to Planet Two, and to lounge later in the pilot's
seat, studying from one of his reelbooks.
"There must be," he told himself, "some way of handling that fuel, and
of storing and using it. The fact that it was cached there on Two shows
that. But then, those folks who used it were so evidently far advanced
in science."
A bit later the thought intruded, "Hey, if that stuff's so powerful
now, after all the untold time it was stored there, what was it like
when it was new?"
An hour or so later he heard his name called, urgently. He sprang up
and ran into the other room, to see his brother beckoning him from the
doorway of their parents' bunkroom. As he came up Jon saw his mother
inside, bending over the bunk.
"Is--is Pop worse? He'd been so much better!" Jon's heart was clogging
his speech.
"No, he seems to be waking up fully." Jak turned a radiant face toward
him, then immediately knelt by his father's side.
Jon knelt, too, his eyes fastened on the still figure in the bed. But
even as he watched, the eyelids slowly fluttered a bit, then a hand was
raised to the forehead. Mr. Carver's head turned from side to side,
restlessly, and then his eyes opened. They seemed to be studying each
of the three watchers in turn, as well as the room in which he was
lying.
"What--" The voice was low, and they strained to hear, "What happened
to me?"
His wife answered quietly, "Don't you worry about that now, Dear. You
were hurt and have been unconscious for some time. But now you're
getting well, and I'll tell you all about it when you wake up again. Go
back to sleep now. You are getting stronger that way."
Mr. Carver seemed to be weighing that advice, then to accept it. "All
right," he said with an affectionate smile. He closed his eyes, and
soon the rhythmic breathing told the three anxious watchers he was
asleep once more.
Jon let out his breath in a happy sigh, there were tears of joy in his
mother's eyes. Jak exclaimed delightedly, "He's getting well, Mother!
In another day or so he'll be all right. Naturally he'd not remember
clearly for a while. My textreels say people with concussions seldom
do. But as soon as he gets a little stronger and those damaged places
in his brain completely restore themselves, he will, you'll see."
Jon chimed in quickly, although he was not too sure of what he was
saying. "It's just the shock, like Jak says. He'll snap out of it in a
day or so."
She wiped her eyes on the corner of her apron, and smiled tremulously,
"Of course, Boys. I ... I guess I've just been so nervous and--and he
was so much more like himself this time."
"No wonder," Jon laid his hand gently on her arm. "You've been under
a terrible strain, too, what with Pop sick and us boys roaming around
on alien planets. But we'll be back on Two where it's more like home,
and there's only a little more to be done before we can start back
for Terra. Anyway, we did and are doing what had to be done to prove
up Pop's claim, and we've beaten Slik Bogin, supposing he's out here
trying to cheat us out of this system."
The boys went into the control room. "We'll have to figure out where to
lay out our townsite, and which planet is best to put it on."
"I vote for Two," Jak said after only a moment's hesitation. "It seems
the most homelike to me, and we can stand the climate so much better
there. Won't have to work in suits all the time."
"Yes, that's where I wanted it, too. This is a funny system, in a way,
though--there's a much greater difference in the distances between the
planets than we usually find."
"Why's that?"
"Ask some astronomer, not me. Has something to do with sizes and
densities, I believe--but I'm not sure even of that. Maybe it's because
this sun is larger and denser than the others we've studied. I know
it's almost a quarter bigger than Sol."
"Two's almost as far away from this sun as Terra is from Sol, didn't
you say?"
"Yes, Earth's average is about ninety-three million miles, while Two
is about eighty-seven, which accounts for its warmth. Then, near as I
can figure it out, Three is lots closer than Mars, yet Five is only a
little further than Jupe, and Four is between them."
"Didn't I read somewhere that Sol's Asteroid Belt is really a broken-up
planet?"
"Some people think so. But nobody knows for sure, yet.
"All right, then, let's put our city on Two." Jak grinned. "Has the
mastermind decided where to put it?"
"Not the exact location." Jon flushed, but grinned back. "Colonial says
it must be fairly close to good water, good soil, forests, and mineral
deposits, however."
He sobered and looked at his brother appealingly. "Golly, Owl, any
chance of Pop getting entirely well before we have to start it, so that
it wouldn't hurt him to do brainwork? I don't know very much about city
planning, you know--only the specs Colonial furnished."
"He could--but maybe he won't. I don't know enough to say how soon.
I've been fooled before--thought it would only take a few days, when he
was first hurt."
"What about his being so ... so ... dreamy?"
"You mean, when he woke up just now? That's really nothing to worry
about, honestly, just as I told you and Mother. I looked it up again,
and the text says amnesiacs often act that way just before they recover
full consciousness."
Jon let out his breath in relief.
"But listen," Jak changed back to the old subject. "If you don't know
anything about city planning--and I don't either--how're we going to
know what has to be done to satisfy the Colonial Board?"
"It's all in the papers they gave us that have to be filled out to file
when we get back. It tells how much area to cover, how far apart the
streets are to be and how wide, and how to mark out everything."
"Gosh, that sounds like a complicated deal. It'll take us an awful long
time, won't it?"
"Not as much as you'd think. If we work really hard, I figure we should
be able to do it in a couple of weeks. We just have to sketch in the
bare outline, not fill it all in.
"Get out the papers, then, and we'll study them."
"Right!"
10
With the various members of the Carver family busy with their studies
and chores, it did not seem long before they came close to Planet Two,
and Jon laid down his reelbooks to begin preparing for the landing. He
had started down through the atmosphere when Jak suddenly roused.
"Why don't we circle around a bit and look for our townsite from the
air?"
"I was going to," Jon said with a disarming grin. "Just wanted to get
close enough to see well before I called you in to help me decide."
At about five miles above the surface he leveled off and began
circumnavigating the globe. He headed in the direction which--he
remembered from their previous visit--would soonest bring them near
the great ocean, but zigzagged from north to south as they proceeded
eastward.
"Watch for rivers," he said. "A fairly large one that empties into the
ocean."
They were about halfway between the north pole and the equator, as they
had already decided the climate in that latitude would probably be the
most suitably average. In a few minutes of traveling they saw ahead a
plain that looked to be just what they wanted.
Quickly Jon maneuvered the ship downward and soon landed. They were
just a few miles from the edge of the great ocean, at the mouth of
a large river of considerable width and length, and not far from an
extensive forest to the south, and a range of considerable mountains to
the west.
"Hope the soil here is good," Jon commented as he locked the controls
in neutral. "Everything else seems perfect."
"The spec-anal shows minerals fairly close, in those hills to the
west." Jak was eagerly peering from the port.
"I know--that's why I chose this spot. Nice flat land here; good river;
close to the ocean, mountains less than a hundred miles away, and not
too high. Ideal place, I'd say.
"That it is; that it is. Going out today?"
"Why not? Nearly four hours till sundown. We can start planning today,
then get busy in the morning."
Their mother came in just then. "I thought it felt like we had landed.
What are you going to do here?" She glanced out of the port.
"We have to lay out a townsite," Jon answered, and at her astonished
look he explained.
She shook her head admiringly and with surprise. "You boys continually
amaze me--you seem able to do anything."
Jon shrugged that off. "When a thing has to be done, a fellow usually
can figure out some way of doing it."
"Besides," Jak grinned, "we're like those old chaps on Terra who used
to say, 'The difficult we do immediately, the impossible takes a little
longer.'"
They left her then and hurried out of the ship. Even though they felt
there could be no possible danger here--they could see for miles in
every direction, and noticed nothing moving--they were wise enough from
experience to carry their rifles slung across their backs, and wore
bandoliers of ammunition. In addition, both carried tools and what
equipment they felt might be needed.
Once outside, they ran first to the river, and tested the water. It was
fresh and clear, and they knew this would be a good source of water for
their proposed city ... until men might pollute it with their garbage
and wastes.
"Got your pedometer?" Jak asked.
"Sure, right here in my coverall pocket. Why?"
"I suggest this would be a good place for the center of the town's
north side...."
"Yes, here by the riverbank would...."
"I'll go east and you go west a half mile each, then we'll set our
corner stakes."
"Then we'll both walk south a mile and set those, and have the four
corners done. Sometimes, Owl, I have to give you credit for having
brains."
"Wish I could say the same about you." Jak reached out and gave his
brother a friendly shove. "Get going, Stupe. And when we start south,
be sure you keep your line straight."
"Look who's yelping. Mine'll be as plumb as yours--probably more so,
because I'm a better plumber than you are."
Jon started his pacing, while Jak went in the opposite direction after
a pretended "_grrr_" at Jon's horrible pun.
When they returned to the ship, as the sun was going down, they felt
they had made a good beginning. But as they went into the control
room to talk alone, away from their mother's hearing--lest they worry
her--they were not too cheerful.
"You know anything about surveying?" Jak slumped into a seat.
"Nope, not a sardine's worth." Jon paced forth and back in the little
room. "That's what has me worried. How're we going to place those other
marking stakes in exactly the right spots."
"Guess we'll have to measure them some other way."
"How?"
"Darned if I know. You're the mechanically--minded one--I thought you
could figure it out."
Jon continued his pacing, his young forehead creased with thought.
Finally, just as their mother called them to dinner, he looked up
excitedly. "Hey, it'll be easy, after all!"
"How?" Jak was as excited as his brother as they went in to the living
quarters and sat down at the table.
"A light plastic line that won't stretch, exactly measured, and
fastened to two metal pin-stakes. We'll make two sets, and...."
"I get it. One the length of the blocks, the other the width of the
streets."
"Right. Stick a pin in the ground, measure out the line, then plant one
of our regular stakes."
"Then give a yank, pull the pin out and haul it in. Then use the other
set to measure the street...."
"Yes, just keep going. Hey, I believe with that system we could each
work alone, so I'll make two sets."
Jak thought all this over swiftly for several minutes, working fork and
knife and jaws meanwhile. Finally, between mouthfuls, he said slowly,
"I can't see a flaw in it--as long as we're mighty careful. Do you
think it'll pass inspection?"
"If we take our time and make sure we're right, I don't see why not."
"What're you boys talking about now?" Their mother set a refilled dish
of steaming Chlorella stew on the table, and resumed her own seat.
They explained, and told her the necessity of what they had to do
in order to prove up their father's claim on this system, when they
returned to Terra and appeared before the Colonial Board with their
proofs of prime discovery.
The worried look came back into her eyes. "I always understood that
surveying was a mighty exact profession. Do you really think you can
measure it exactly enough to take the place of a regular survey?"
"I think we can make it close enough so that when Pop wakes up and
shows us how to do the final survey with the instruments, we can save
a lot of time, at least," Jon assured her. "That's what we're thinking
and planning about now."
"You see, Mother," Jak broke in, "if we have the stakes all set, all
we'll have to do is to make the sights on each one, after Father
teaches us how to use the transit. Then, if we should be off anywhere,
we can fix them easily."
"Yes, it'll cut down the time a lot," Jon went on, "and now we're so
near done, I want to get everything finished so we can go back to Terra
immejit."
"Why? Getting homesick?" his mother teased.
"Not so much that, but we want to get our claim before the Board.
Anything can happen when such distances and time are concerned...."
"And we just don't want anything to spoil Father's chances of having
this valuable claim verified."
"I see." She smiled now in relief, and again her eyes showed the pride
she felt in her two manly boys who were daily proving themselves more
than equal to the unusual situations in which they found themselves.
"Your father woke up again while you were out, and...."
"He did?" It was a duet of happy excitement.
"... and while he still didn't seem to realize what had happened, he
acted even more as though he recognized me. He let me feed him some
broth, then went back to sleep again very contentedly."
"Golly, that's great!" Jon reached out and patted her hand.
The three chatted together with more freedom and animation than they
had known since the terrible accident first occurred. It seemed as
though their worst troubles were over. For Tad Carver was so reliable,
so confident in himself, so trust-inspiring--even beyond their natural
love for him--that they felt everything would just have to work out
right, once he was again in command.
As soon as they had finished eating, the boys hurried to the storeroom
and found some metal rods.
"Cut me four lengths about fifteen inches each," Jon ordered as he went
to the workbench. He cleared a space, then began getting the tools he
wanted, and hooking up the induction furnace.
"You'll need eight for two full sets, won't you?"
"I got to thinking we'd better make only one set for now. If it works
out all OK, then we can make the other."
By the time Jak had the pieces cut, Jon was ready to heat one end of
each in the furnace, then bend it into a small eye. The other end he
sharpened on the emery wheel.
"Now measure out pieces of that plastic rope," he ordered, pointing
to a reel of small-diametered but very strong line. "Figure about six
inches extra on each...."
"Look, Chum, you tend to your job and give me credit for brains enough
to know that much." Jak's tone was almost cross, for sometimes this
younger brother got on his nerves, since Jon did occasionally get quite
"bossy."
But the elder quickly subdued that feeling--helped by the surprised and
somewhat hurt look in Jon's eyes. He knew so well that Jon was merely
trying--as he himself was learning to do--to see that neither made any
mistakes in this important work they were attempting to do in their
father's absence. Father was always cautioning them to take pains with
whatever they were doing, and they usually accepted his warning and
advice--as they did their mother's--without any more grumbling than
boys ordinarily make about such "fussing."
But now each of them--and both of them together--had to be, and did
try to be, extra painstaking in all the things their father would
have cautioned them about, and they checked and rechecked each other
constantly. So Jak said nothing more, and quietly helped Jon complete
the stakes-and-line sets. After all, he admitted honestly, there were
undoubtedly times when he got just as "bossy" as Jon did.
Soon the two sets of pins and line were done. Each of the boys measured
each once--twice--to make doubly sure their work was right. Then they
cut up and sharpened a number of wooden stakes from some inch-by-inch
strips they found in the storeroom.
The next morning they started out early. Each carried a bundle of the
marking stakes, and Jon had a small sledge in one hand. In addition,
they had their rifles slung across their backs.
"Working together to begin with," Jon said at breakfast, "we can start
the eastward leg from the southwest corner, and run it a ways, then
come back and start the northward one from this same corner."
"Yes, if we get that first corner square and right, there's less chance
of the other three being wrong--they'll more or less check themselves."
They soon found they could work at quite a swift pace, and at lunch
time Jon cried, "At this rate we'll have time to go back and re-check
everything, and still get done within our two weeks."
"Yes, if we don't run into any trouble, this seems to be working out
fine. Much better than I'd have given you credit for being able to
figure out, Chubby."
"Catfish to you, Brother!" Jon grinned. "Hey, that reminds me. I want
to see if that river's got any fish in it--and no...." He caught
himself and stopped, but Jak knew what he meant. Their mother still
didn't know about that quicksand Jon had been almost trapped in, and
they didn't want her to learn of it.
"I suppose it would be worth knowing," Jak had hastened to say, almost
as if interrupting. "For once your eternal love of fishing will have
its good points--as well as getting us fresh food. What about the
ocean?"
"I'll try that, too, if I have time. Surf-fishing won't tell us too
much about the deeper sea, and I haven't any heavy tackle for anything
very big if we happen to run into it. But probably, close to shore like
I'll have to fish, we wouldn't catch anything my lines and hooks won't
handle."
"If _you_ can handle 'em," Jak said with a grin.
"Don't you worry about me," Jon retorted. "I can pull in anything I can
get my hook on."
"Except a sunken ship," Jak jibed, and Jon's face grew red. That
incident, when he and his father had been fishing off the coast of
Southern California, back in Terra's Pacific Ocean, was still a tender
subject with him. He had had to cut his line that time, because they
could not loosen his hooks, and he had lost a favorite spinner and
leader and half his best line.
That first week passed uneventfully. The boys worked hard, from shortly
after sunup to almost sundown. So hard, in fact, that their mother
finally protested after noticing that they were so weary that they
slumped in their chairs at the table and could hardly eat each evening
when they returned to the ship.
"Now you boys listen to your mother," she commanded one night at
dinner. "I'm just as anxious to get back to Earth as you are, but
there's no sense killing yourselves to save a day or two. From now on,
you are to start an hour later, and quit an hour earlier."
Jak managed a weak grin. "Guess you're right, Mother. But we are coming
along fine."
"Sure, we've almost completed outlining the site. We'll have to take
tomorrow off anyway, to go to the forest out there and cut some more
stakes," Jon added.
"It'll make a nice vacation. I'm really fed up with so much sameness of
hard work."
"Yes, it's been a steady grind, no fooling, but we wanted to get it
done as quick as we can, so Pop can check it."
For their father had been waking up several times every day, their
mother reported. True, he had only been conscious for short periods,
and was still too weak to be bothered with any of their problems. But,
she told the boys, he was able to eat something each time he awoke, and
his mind was clear again. She was preparing easily eaten and digested
foods that would bring back his strength quickly.
Jak asked anxiously whether his father had mentioned how the leg felt,
and Mrs. Carver told him, "He says it doesn't pain any, although
sometimes it itches beneath the cast."
Later on, just as they finished eating, Jak suggested, "Take your
tackle along tomorrow, Chubby, and we'll chop where the woods meet the
river."
"Why, t'anks, pal, you're a good kid." Jon made a fake pass at his
brother, who jumped up from the table and yanked the other's chair
backward, starting a small scuffle which their mother wisely did not
try to stop, knowing that, tired as they were, it would last only a few
seconds and would be good for them.
* * * * *
When the boys returned from their expedition the next night, with arms
and backs loaded with bundles of stakes, and Jon's creel well-filled
with Two's fish-things, she met them anxiously at the lockdoor.
"Did you boys hear or see the ship that passed over us this morning?"
"Ship?"
"No, we didn't see nor hear a thing. Sure it was a ship?"
"No, I didn't see it, either. I thought I heard one, and ran to look
out, but couldn't locate anything. Maybe it was just my imagination."
"Spaceship or airship?" Jon asked.
"I couldn't tell you that, either, except that if I did really hear
one, it must have been a spaceship to disappear so quickly."
"Unless it was a fast jet--they're just as hard to spot."
They discussed the affair for some time, but could come to no
conclusions. If it was a ship, why hadn't it stopped or signalled?
And if it wasn't one, what had she heard? Or had she actually heard
anything?
Two evenings later the two boys had completed outlining their city
site, and were just climbing into the _Star Rover_ when they heard
their mother's voice.
"That you, boys? Come in here. Hurry!"
At the urgency in her voice, they ran quickly and found her sitting at
the side of their father's bunk. As they got closer they saw his head
turn toward them, and recognition in the wide-open eyes.
"Hello, fellows!" His voice was weak but happy.
"Father!"
"Oh, Pop, you're awake at last!"
The two almost fought to be closest to him, but their mother moved a
little and both sank to their haunches beside the bunk, each with one
of their father's somewhat emaciated hands in theirs.
"Your mother tells me I've been sick quite a long time, and that you
chaps have been carrying on. I'm grateful, and proud."
"You should see the way Mom has caught on to doing things," Jon said
quickly. "She does almost all our photographing now."
"And Jon has developed into a real astrogator," Jak said.
"Yes, Pop, but you wouldn't be as well as you are today if it hadn't
been for Owl knowing how to set your leg and make a cast for it, and
giving you the proper medicines and intravenous feedings." Jon turned
to smile at his brother, who grew red in the face and tried to stop
the compliments, but the younger boy rushed on. "He's really a whiz as
a doctor. Knew exactly what to do for you. How's your leg feel?"
"Fine, thanks to you, Jak."
"Oh, it wasn't so much--and I didn't _know_. I had to study a lot to
find out...."
"Anyway, I'm still alive and that shows you did a fine job." Mr. Carver
lifted a weak hand to caress his elder son's face. Then he turned
toward Jon. "I've had fine reports of you, too, Son. Your mother
says...."
"Yes, if anyone deserves praise around here, it's Jon," Jak broke
in. "He has done all the piloting and figuring courses, and he even
invented a one-man control so he can land and take off without all the
trouble and preciseness needed before. Why, he...."
"Nix Owl!" Jon was the one to be embarrassed now. "That can wait until
Pop's stronger. The main thing is to report now, so he can tell us what
to do next."
"Where are we--and what has been done so far?" Mr. Carver asked. "Your
mother hasn't--or wouldn't--tell me, except that we've reached the new
system, and are landed on one of the worlds there."
"We're on Planet Two, and we're laying out the city site that the Board
requires. This sun has five planets, and Two and Three are perfectly
habitable for humans, but no natives above animal level," Jak began.
"There're seven moons--one at Two, two at Three, and four at Four,"
Jon took up the tale. "We've visited all the planets, and have set out
the automatic signal-senders, with tapes giving you the credit for the
prime discovery."
"They named the sun 'Carveria' after you, Mr. C." His wife leaned
forward, eyes shining with pride, and an arm across the shoulders of
each of the boys. "They named the planets after one of us, each, and
the fifth one after the ship, and we've given names to the moons, too."
"This world will be swell for people who like it warm, and Three will
be just as good for those who prefer colder weather. Both are a lot
like Terra at different seasons and sections, and both are rich in
soil, water, forests, metals and...."
"And we discovered a cache of that new fuel-metal you thought you saw
in the spectroscope," Jon broke in, his voice bubbling with eagerness.
"Right here on Two. Not a mine or a vein, understand, but a cache, in a
metal box buried in the sand. Must have been some people a long, long
time ago, because from the sand drifted inside the box it apparently
hadn't been touched for thousands of years. And it showed up on
Five...."
"But it's guarded by some sort of sentient flames," Jak burst in.
His father's face lighted up. "Have you tried it yet?" he asked Jon.
"No," The boy's face showed disappointment. "Mom wouldn't let me
take any chances when I first wanted to, but now I'm glad--it's very
highly radioactive still, in spite of who knows how many half-life
deteriorations. It might've blown us higher than up. Maybe, though,
when you get better we can study...."
"If we haven't got a small lead box, you ought to be able to make one,"
his father broke in. "You could probably handle a small quantity of
it that way, to bring it in so we can study it. Maybe, though," as an
afterthought, "if it's that strong, you'd better wait for me to help
before trying any of it in the generators."
"It's in little cubes, a bit smaller than our copper pellets. That's
why I'm so sure it's a fuel, and that it was put here by some sort of
people who had advanced space travel a long, long time ago." Jon was
still excited. "We figure all we have to do is finish laying out the
town here, and then we can start back for Terra and put your claim
before the Colonial Board," Jon said. "Of course, we all hoped and
expected you'd be well enough to check what we've done...."
"But we tried to follow all the items in the papers the Board gave us,"
Jak added seriously. "And now you're well, we can make sure...."
"You father is far from well yet," their mother broke in, her voice
imperative. "We are all so happy he's awake at last, but I can see he's
very weak and that all this excitement has been almost too much for
him. You boys say 'Good night' to him now, and then run off and eat
your dinner, and let him sleep. Tomorrow evening you can finish your
report."
Reluctantly the boys obeyed, and went into their living quarters and to
the table.
"Golly, I should think Pop'd want to hear all about it now." Jon
frowned with disappointment.
"He does, don't you worry," Jak tried to cheer him. "I should have
watched him more closely to see we didn't excite or overtire him, but
I was just as happy and eager as you were. He'll be stronger after
another good long sleep, but we've got to be careful not to expect too
much of him for some time yet."
"Yes, I know you're right." Then Jon's face lighted with relief. "But
it's sure swell to have him awake so we can talk to him and he can take
charge of things again. You did a grand job, Owl, bringing him through."
"That's another thing, you big bum. You go handing out praise like that
again, and I'll bust you one."
"Oh, yeh, and who was the parrotfish talking up so big the few little
things I did?"
Jak came over and threw his arm across the shoulders of his taller but
younger brother. "Both of us were so carried away by our enthusiasm we
forgot to belittle each other," he said sagely. "Maybe we do sort of
like each other, after all."
Jon pushed him away with rough tenderness, but his eyes were
suspiciously moist. His words, though, were an attempted snort, as he
picked up his knife and fork.
"What do you want--the next waltz?"
11
When the boys came into the dinette the next morning, their mother was
humming happily as she prepared breakfast, and greeted them with a
cheery smile.
"Pop awake yet?" Jon asked as he saw her mood.
"No, but he's sleeping so sweetly I know he's all right," she answered.
They sat down and began eating. After finishing, Jak said, "Well, we
might as well go out and work some more on our townsite."
"Call us when Pop wakes up, will you, please?" Jon took a last sip of
his juice-concentrate.
"That'd be silly." Jak frowned. "We know he can't come and help us, so
why should we run several miles back here when we can see him when we
get back?"
Jon opened his mouth to reply, his eyes flashing almost angrily, but
their mother interrupted quickly with a question, "Boys, just why do
you have to lay out such a site?"
"The Board requires it," Jon answered shortly.
"In the early days of exploration," Jak explained more patiently, "some
of the space crews used to make their reports after merely flying above
the surface of the planets of a new system. In fact, some of them
didn't even go that close, and merely made up sketchy reports."
"Then when colonists got there," Jon, who had simmered down by now,
took up the explanation, "they often found conditions very different,
and many times quite dangerous to them."
"Yes, sometimes there were even intelligent inhabitants who hadn't been
reported, so their planets couldn't be used for colonization. So the
Board made this new ruling," Jak continued. "Now we have to have so
many photos taken from various heights and at different places all over
the surface of each planet, and each moon more than one hundred miles
in diameter. And we have to lay out a townsite on the most Earthlike
planet, mostly to show we actually have been there and spent some time
there...."
"And it really doesn't make any difference whether the people who'll
come here to live use it or not...."
"But we think they will use ours because we selected a place close to a
river and the ocean, close to forests and fairly near minerals."
"Yes, you have done a wonderful job, I know that much about it."
"Well, we'll go out and re-check our lines," Jon said. "I've been
studying and experimenting with the theodolite, and I can...."
"What is that?" she asked.
"What's what? Oh, the 'theodolite'? That's the surveyor's telescope.
I've learned enough about it so I can tell if our lines have been run
straight, and as we were so careful in measuring the distances, I'm
quite sure they're fairly accurate."
"Yes," Jak chimed in, "I'll bet none of them are more than an inch off,
if that."
"Optimist," Jon scoffed. "I'd take that bet away from you, only it'd be
cheating an infant."
Jak started a retort, then thought better of it, and shut up.
They left the ship soon, Jon carrying the surveying instrument over his
shoulder, and Jak the marker-pole. Arrived at the nearest corner of
their townsite, Jon set the instrument down, while Jak went on to the
next stake.
By means of the graduated circle attached just below the telescope,
and the plumb line suspended from it, Jon adjusted the collapsible
legs until he felt sure it was correctly focussed. Then, as Jak went
ahead from stake to stake, Jon took sights to make sure each marker
was centered on his cross hairs. The ones that were not, he indicated
by hand signals, and Jak reset them to left or right, until Jon was
satisfied.
They completed all of one side before lunch, then returned to the ship.
They found their mother had opened both lockdoors while they were gone,
and fresh, crisp, though warm, air was circulating through the ship,
blowing out the old chemically pure yet "stale-feeling" air their
purifiers had been re-circulating for so long.
Their father was awake, but still so weak he was making no attempt
to sit fully up in bed, although his wife had slipped an extra pillow
beneath his head.
"Ho, fellows!" he greeted the boys as they came into the bunkroom.
"How's the job coming?"
"Just fine, Pop."
"We have the townsite all laid out, and now we're checking to make sure
the lines are straight," Jak told him.
He frowned a bit. "How did you manage it? Neither of you is a surveyor.
Or have you learned how to do that, too?"
"I think I've figured out the theodolite well enough to tell if our
lines are straight, and that's what we're using now," Jon continued. "I
can't measure distances with it, though."
Jak explained more in detail how they had measured the blocks and
street widths, and rechecked them all.
"I can't see why it won't pass," their father said when they finished.
"Probably no one will ever check it, unless they actually use the site
when the colonists come. It shows we were landed here long enough to do
the work, and that's the important thing. What about the rest of the
mapping?"
"I'll go get the papers." Jon ran out, to return in a few minutes with
the book of reports, and the rolls of film and prints they had made on
all the planets and satellites. "You can check these as you feel up to
it, Pop, and anything that looks wrong we can go back and re-check or
do over."
Mr. Carver riffled quickly through the pages, and saw that each
question had been answered; each measurement given an answer--though
whether correct or not, of course, he could not know. All the
information required had been supplied, at least.
He gave the boys his old-time grin, even as he was shaking his head in
wonder. "You chaps certainly have done a job. Looks like I'll have to
take the backseat from now...."
"_No!_" The two boys were shocked by that.
"Not on your life, Pop! We maybe did fairly well, but we need you, just
the same."
"I'll say we do," Jak chimed in. "There's so much yet you can teach us.
Why, we've only begun learning most of the things we want to know."
Mr. Carver smiled up at his sons. "I'm always glad to tell you anything
I can, Fellows. It's good to see you growing up, though." He turned his
head to face Jon more directly. "What's that about a new system you
rigged up so you can land and take off with only one switch?"
Jon explained, and the two were soon deep in technical talk of
electronic relays and cells, and automatic switch-overs. Finally, Mrs.
Carver came in with a tray of lunch for her husband, and told the boys
their food was on the table.
"All right, you chaps, go and eat," Mr. Carver said. "I'll take another
nap while you're out this afternoon. Then maybe I'll feel up to talking
some more this evening, and going over these reports with you."
* * * * *
The second day later the boys finished their re-checking, and came
back to the ship in midafternoon. Their father was again awake, and
they went in to see him.
"We're all done here, Pop, so what say we go back to that fuel-metal
cache and see about getting the stuff aboard?" Jon asked.
"I guess from all you've said that's the most important thing now,"
he agreed after a moment's consideration. "Only thing is, I've been
wondering if you couldn't move me into the control room, and fix a
couch for me there?"
"Sure, that's easy," Jak told him.
But Jon frowned in thought. "Yes, we can do it, but we'll have to
figure out first how to fasten the cot down and then make some
arrangement so you can stand any acceleration we may have to use."
"How about fixing the co-pilot's seat into a bunk?"
"Hey, that's the ticket!" Jon brightened. He ran out and soon was
helping his mother gather blankets, sheets and pillows, and going with
Jak to bring an extra mattress from the storeroom.
They set the seat to recline, and then while Mrs. Carver was making up
the bed, the boys carried their father--a much lighter load now than
when he had first been hurt--and put him in his new bed.
"Say, this is all right!" Mr. Carver exclaimed after Jon had lowered
the co-pilot's visiplate so his father could look into it without
distortion or neck-craning. "All the comforts of home." He grinned at
his wife.
She stooped and kissed him. "Be sure and let us know any time you get
too tired, though, Mr. C."
"I will, Honey," he assured her. "But actually, I'm so comfortable
I don't see why I can't stay here as well as in bed, until the leg's
strong enough to start getting up."
Everything else ready, he watched anxiously, then admiringly, as Jon
started the tubes firing, balanced them and took them off with the
throwing of his one switch. In his visiplate the elder man watched with
intense interest the scenery over which they were passing--Jon had set
course so they would go completely around this world of Two until they
came to that desert. Mr. Carver made many enthusiastic comments about
this splendid planet that now bore his wife's name.
"Yes, and Three's just as nice, only colder," Jon reported eagerly.
"Folks who like cold weather can live there without too much trouble at
all."
"It's funny, though," Jak declared with a frown, "that there's no
protoplasmic life there at all. That we could find," he hastened to add.
"Lots of vegetation, though," Jon added. "That means the soil will be
good for growing things, doesn't it?"
"It certainly sounds like it." His father smiled. "The colonists may
have to adapt their Earth-seeds to fit, and probably bring their own
worms and bees and so on. But they should be able to farm there. From
your surveys, it appears there are plenty of minerals so they can start
mines and factories of all kinds right away. Yes, this looks like a
pretty good solar system."
"You bet, Pop. You sure picked a winner in this one," Jon's eyes
gleamed with satisfaction.
"I had an idea, from the spectroscopic examinations we made 'way back
there near Sirius, that we'd find it fairly good here. But, to be
honest, I didn't dare hope it would be this good. To tell the truth, I
was really more interested in that line which seemed to indicate that
fuel-stuff, than I was in new planets for colonization, although we
needed those, too, to make the trip pay off."
Before long they came above the beginning of that well-remembered
desert, and Jon slowed and circled, preparatory to landing.
Jon kept his eyes upon his instruments, and when he saw they were close
to the actual latitude and longitude, he killed the speed to their
slowest cruising range, and their height to a few hundred yards. When
he knew he was almost at the exact spot, he stared intently into his
pilot's magnifying visiplate, at the same time keeping his fingers
tautly on the landing switch.
Soon, in his plate, he saw the top of that cache cover in the nearing
distance. He circled until he judged he could land close to it, then
closed the switch.
Softly, easily, the space-yacht came in to a landing on the hard packed
sand, and Jon shut off the power and put everything in neutral.
His father had wisely kept silent during this maneuvering, but now he
let out his breath in a _whoosh_.
"That's the neatest landing I ever saw," he told Jon admiringly. "That
gadget of yours will make you a young fortune when we get it back to
Terra."