CHAPTER XII
Betrayed
The worst enemies make the staunchest allies. That old truism never proved itself more surely than to Gary Lane and his comrades in the ensuing days. Those same Jovians who, considering them enemies, had been swift to condemn them to death with but a travesty of trial now, allied to their cause, proved themselves most eager of aides.
While technicians hastened to equip theLibertywith that secret device which would enable the ship to project itself through quadridimensional space to the ulterior universe, other craftsmen labored diligently to refurbish the ship, check its armaments, and render it in all ways completely shipshape for the journey to follow.
Nor made the Jovians any effort to conceal that which was being done aboard theLiberty. They worked openly, their engineers offering painstaking explanations of the device's operation to those who cared to learn. And, of course this number was great. Almost all theLiberty'spersonnel was eager to learn the secret of that novel flight method which was to henceforth govern their ship. As the sublime simplicity of the plan revealed itself physicists and spacemen alike were awed.
"Not so much," said Captain Hugh Warren wonderingly, "at the method itself as at the fact that nobody ever thought of it before. Why, when you hear it explained it's like child's play!"
Dr. Bryant smiled thinly. "And is that not always true of great inventions? The wheel, the steam engine, the gasoline motor, the rocket drive—all these things seemed simple commonplaces to the civilizations which used them. But each was, to a former civilization which knew it not, a mystery at once profound and obscure. So it is with the Jovian fourth-dimensional drive.
"I venture to predict that in the future days—if, that is, we successfully accomplish our mission—it will become the standard method of space travel. Its advantages are obvious. Instantaneous transfer of objects from one spot to another ... why, just think! Tomorrow's earthman may eat for breakfast fresh budberries plucked that morning from the marshes of Venus, covered with milk shipped short hours ago from a Martian dairy ranch!"
"All of which," said the little steward, Herby Hawkins apologetically, "sounds mighty good, guv'nor. And maybe this here now device is, like you say, child's play. But—beggin' your pardon, sir—I still don't get it. 'Ow can a ship get so fast from one plyce to another? Almost like it was in two plyces at the same time?"
"Why," explained Dr. Bryant professorially, "simply by contracting into contigual adjacency twolociof the continuum—"
"Excuse me a minute, Doctor," grinned Gary. "Maybe I can explain it in a way Hawkins will understand more easily. You see, Hawkins, it's like this. I draw two circles on this piece of paper—" He sketched rapidly—"Now, let us suppose you are a two-dimensional creature living in this universe, which we will call 'Flatland.' You are onthisworld and you wish to travel tothatone. How would you go about it?"
"Naturally," said Hawkins, "this way." And he drew his finger laterally between the two "worlds." "A stryte line bein' the shortest distance between two points—"
"Of course," said Gary. "And being a Flatlander you would have neither knowledge nor comprehension of any swifter way of making a journey than to traverse the broad width of the sheet. However,three-dimensional creatures like ourselves can immediately see a still shorter and easier way of traveling from one sphere to the other. We would simply—" He picked up the sheet of paper and folded it so the two worlds lay adjacent—"Wewould simply create a two-dimensional space warp through the third dimension."
"Well, blimey!" said Hawkins.
"To complete the analogy," Gary went on, "that is what the Jovians have done ... only working infourdimensions rather than three.
"Everyone knows magnetic matter warps space. Einstein proved that way back in the early days of the Twentieth Century. So the scientists of Jupiter have invented a machine which, setting up a highly magnetized flux field, warps three-dimensional space in the direction of the flight they wish to make. Their 'ends of the paper' fold together ... and when the warping machine is again disengaged you are where you want to be. It's as easy as that."
"It's as easy as that—" Hawkins gulped and ran a finger under his uniform collar. "Yes, sir. Now that you point it out, it's all very clear, sir. Ridic'lously simple, if I might say so. So, completely comprehendin' the sitchyation, I'll be gettin' back to my work now, sir ... if you don't mind." And he disappeared.
But if Gary Lane found it easy to explain the operation of the Jovian space warp, he found it not quite so easy to explain other facets of the blue-skinned race's psychology.
It was baffling, for instance, to find himself confronted with smiles when, fearful of mishap, he warned the Jovian technicians against tampering with Earth's jealously guarded hypatomic unit.
"You must be very careful. The hypos are protected with devices which will cause them to explode if tampered with."
The chief technician smiled pleasantly.
"Yes," he said, "they were, weren't they?"
"I'm sorry," apologized Gary, "but there's nothing I can do about it. What!Were?I don't understand. Do you mean—?"
"We've drawn the dragon's teeth. Yes, of course. We had to in order to install our own equipment."
"But how—?"
"Another useful trick," smiled the Jovian, "of fourth dimensional science. It was a simple matter to reach our instruments into sealed chambers and cut the wires connecting the explosive fuses."
That, young Dr. Lane could see clearly, was quite true. It would be no harder for mechanics working with quadridimensional tools to perform this observation than for a tri-dimensional bank robber to remove the contents of a Flatland safe.
But there was a corollary to this revelation. Gary said slowly, "Then ... then that means you now understand the operation of the hypatomic motor."
The other nodded casually. "Why, yes. And most ingenious, too."
"What do you plan to do with your knowledge?"
"Why," said the Jovian frankly, "I think it would be a very good idea to expose it openly to the races of every solar planet. Earth has held its monopoly on spaceflight long enough. I think, don't you, it's almost timeallthe worlds were given the right to free and competitive commerce?"
Gary grinned, a warm admiration for this people suffusing him. And:
"I think," he agreed, "you are absolutely right."
All these were interludes. There were others, too: amusing, entertaining, beguiling. Because now, on the eve of what must assuredly be their last and most perilous journey, almost to a last man the argonauts of theLibertywere having a last fling at such pleasures as presented themselves.
And in truth, there was much to be done, many beauties to be seen on Jupiter.
For the entertainment of the Earthmen was planned an expedition to the Flaming Sea, that weird chemical phenomenon of cold light whose shimmering, ruddy reflection, viewed by Earth's telescopes centuries ago through the filtering layers of Jupiter's foggy shroud, had caused Earth scientists to ponder on the nature of the "Red Spot."
On this trip almost all theLiberty'spersonnel embarked, gay and carefree as youngsters gone a-picnicking. Lark O'Day, arm linked through that of his now-constant companion, the shy and quiet Pen-N'hi, came bridgeward to urge Gary on the trip.
"Oh, come along, Lane!" he coaxed. "Come along and have some fun. A man can't workallthe time."
Gary said with sincere regret, "I'm sorry, Lark, but I can't. I have to help the engineers complete their installation. And there are some final computations to be made yet—"
Nora Powell, who had been standing in the background pleaded almost wistfully, "But it would besomuch fun, Gary. They say the Flaming Sea is one of the most beautiful sights in the galaxy. One of the seven wonders of the universe."
"I know it. But I'm up to my ears—"
The girl said almost hopefully, it seemed, "Then, maybe I'd better stay with you? Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"
But Gary shook his head. "No, you run along. Hugh, you look out for Nora. See that she has a good time."
Warren, grinning broadly, moved forward to link his arm in that of the girl. "Sure will, pal. The pleasure's all mine."
So, in the end, all the adventurers save two took the sightseeing trip. Those two were Gary Lane and the elderly Eurasian scientist, Dr. Anjers, who had courteously excused himself.
"When one reaches my age, my friends, one loses interest in romantic surroundings. No, I shall remain here to be of what assistance I can to Dr. Lane."
And of assistance he was. For it was he whose adroit questioning of the Jovian engineers finally brought clarity to a question whose answer had been often hinted but never answered. As the workmen put the finishing touches on the warping unit's installation he asked, "And just what, gentlemen, are the limitations of this device ... the usage to which it may not safely be put? Your Councillor, Kushra, gave us to understand that there was a certain amount of peril inherent to its use."
The chief technician frowned. "That is right. However, we have taken all safety factors into consideration. In reaching your destination, if the dials and verniers are not changed from the settings which we have established, you will not experience the slightest difficulty—"
"But just what," asked Gary, "is the nature of this danger?"
"Simply that through an improper setting of the dials you might end your journey in some place quite unlike that which was your destination. In other words, if this central vernier were twisted to the right by so much as one degree theLiberty'sflight might end not, as intended, within the solar galaxy of the star Sirius ... but within the burning heart of the star itself."
Gary frowned uneasily. "The only consolation to that thought is that if such a thing happened none of us would ever know anything about it."
"Quite true. TheLibertyand all aboard would be instantaneously seared to a clinker by the inconceivable heat of a star thousands of times greater than our little sun."
"Why, then," asked Dr. Anjers, "employ control verniers at all? Why not simply set and lock the controls upon the desired objective?"
The Jovian smiled. "Have you forgotten, sir, that when your mission is ended you will wish to return home? Then the new course and trajectory must be calculated and the verniers reset. That is why it is necessary we install a complete unit and train you in its use."
The scientist said petulantly, "Despite all these precautions it is a fool-hardy trip. It would be safer, to my way of thinking, to visit a nearer star ... say Proxima Centauri ... thereby diminishing the risk of over or undershooting our mark.
"Sometimes," he bridled, "I think this whole scheme is madness. It is ridiculous to think of us, tiny mites that we are, daring to attack the people of a universe so infinitely greater than ours that we will be as dust motes beneath their crushing heels!"
Gary stared at the little man curiously. "People greater than us, Dr. Anjers? Now, that's a peculiar thought. Whatever makes you say—"
Anjers wriggled in sudden defiant embarrassment. "It was not my idea, Dr. Lane, but your own. It was you who advanced the theory that our universe is dwindling. It follows as a natural corollary that any race existingoutsideour universe—"
Gary nodded. "Why, yes, I suppose you're right. But I'd never stopped to think of it in quite that way. A race of giants—"
But the little man's words had had an even more striking effect upon the Jovian engineer. He said excitedly, "A great race? A race of giants? That's strange. There is a legend among our people that once, countless centuries ago, our forefathers were mighty men who clashed in brutal conflict with a race of giants."
The Liberty's personnel embarked on an expedition to the Flaming Sea.
The Liberty's personnel embarked on an expedition to the Flaming Sea.
The Liberty's personnel embarked on an expedition to the Flaming Sea.
"Naturally," said Anjers curtly, "there would be such a fable. That legend occurs not only in the mythology ofyourrace but in that of every civilized planet. Earth's theosophy speaks of Gog and Magog, the giants who lived before men.[9]The Venusian folk-tales sing of an ancient battle of Titans. The Martians tell of a day when giants warred.
"Such myths are easily explained. They are simply barbaric nature-myths; explanations of the recurring solstice, the battle between the giants of summer heat and winter cold."
But the Jovian said somewhat haughtily. "Oursis no folk tale of a barbaric people, Doctor. Our race was old when yours still roamed the jungles of its native world. Our written history is based on fact, not fancy. And it is strange that you should speak now of a race of giants...."
Gary Lane held his peace. Yet, he, too, was oddly troubled by this new and disturbing thought.
But all things end at last, even hours of impatient waiting. And it was shortly thereafter that the installation of the Jovian machine was completed. So, at last, their adventure appropriately feasted, their success prayerfully toasted, theLiberty'scomplement prepared to set forth on the final leg of their journey.
All hands were aboard, all stations manned, and in the control turret stood those upon whose efforts depended not only the success of this mission but the very existence of the universe.
It was a great moment, one calculated to not only lift with pride the heart of the humblest person, but to instill humility into the heart of the most prideful. A strange silence fell over the little group, a silence finally broken by Hugh Warren.
"Well ... all ready, Gary?"
Gary nodded. "Yes. You understand the operation of the Jovian machinery?"
"Yes, I press this first button ... the green one ... allow fifteen minutes for the motors to warm and the space warp to develop, then press the red button. Right?"
"Right," said Gary. He looked around at his friends, then bent his head in a swift, decisive nod. "Here we go, folks. High, low, jack and game!"
Warren's finger touched the green button.
Nothing happened.
That is, nothingseemedto happen. TheLiberty'shypos were cut. There sounded through the ship not even that dim, familiar, whining undertone which was its usual accompaniment of generating speed. There was no sensation of flight, no hurtling shock of acceleration, no grip of suddenly intensified gravity. No intraspatial weightlessness. Nothing.
For a moment the wayfarers stared at each other with speculative eyes. Could it be the Jovian invention was, after all, a failure. Did they still lie in their cradle on Pangré spaceport.
As if to solve this question, Lark O'Day pressed the stud which opened the vision plate to the outer hull. And what appeared thereon finally dissolved all doubts. It was notwhatthey saw but what they didnotsee which offered clinching evidence of the fourth dimensional drive's effectiveness.
Because it was no spaceport over which they looked, nor jet space spangled with the colorful burning of a myriad stars. Instead, there reflected on the vision plate before them a blank, gray, writhingnothingness. Just that. The soul of an emptiness beyond space and time, beyond color and form and life.
It was a vista terrible to look upon, awful to consider. Gary Lane drew a short uneven breath. "Well, take a good look, folks," he said. "There it is. The world between the worlds. The universe between the universes. The unfathomable fourth dimension."
Then, amazingly, came a burst of giggling laughter from one of their party. From the mirth-contorted lips of their Eurasian scientist companion, Dr. Boris Anjers.
"Yes," babbled Anjers triumphantly, "look long and well, little fools, while yet you may. For when that mist passes your puny efforts will end in flaming oblivion. That all too brief gray pall is—your shroud of death!"