So quickly did he slip away he did not realize that Jon, too, after a final quick glance at his board, and knowing that everything necessary had been done, had also relaxed into unconsciousness. Did not know, or care, that their ship was now speeding around and away from the sun. Did not realize that all four of the Carvers were now unconscious.
But their blackout did not last too long. In a few hours, during which the auto-pilot took them smoothly and accurately away from that titanic furnace, safety distance was attained and the frightful acceleration began to ease.
By the time they were traveling at a little less than two gravities, Jon stirred. His memory cells began functioning once more, and slowly he awakened. As soon as he realized where he was, and why, he glanced at his various telltales.
"We made it!" he yelled triumphantly. Then, as he heard no reply from his brother, he quickly raised his seat to upright, and turned to look at Jak. The latter was still lying down, his face white and strained.
Quickly, anxiously, Jon released himself and sprang across to his brother's side. He rubbed Jak's wrists and temples. Soon the flush of returning blood showed, and the elder sighed and opened his eyes.
"We made it!" Jon cried again as he pushed Jak's seat into erect. "Everything went off shark-y."
Jak struggled into full consciousness, then began loosening his straps. "Mother and Father?" he exclaimed. "Did they come through all right?"
At Jak's question, Jon started. "Haven't looked yet. Let's go see."
The two raced into the living room and into their parents' bunkroom. Mrs. Carver was just opening her eyes, and seeing the boys' anxious looks, struggled to sit up. They helped her, and Jak turned quickly to look at his father. To his relief, the latter's pulse was no weaker, and his breathing was regular.
"We got through all safely," Jon assured his mother, and she threw her arms about him and broke into tears. "Hey, no need of crying now; it's all over."
"I know." She reached down for a corner of her apron and wiped her eyes. "Just relief, I guess. Is Mr. C. all right?" she asked Jak.
"Didn't seem to hurt him a bit."
Indeed, just then there was a mutter from Mr. Carver's lips, and his eyelids fluttered open.
The three gathered closely beside him, and were tremendously heartened at the look of sane awareness in his eyes.
"Hullo?" as though surprised to find himself in bed and the others gathered about him. "Did I oversleep?"
Jak reached out and took his father's hand. "No, Father. You've been a little ill and unconscious, that's all. But you're almost well now. A bit more rest and you'll be all OK."
The invalid looked surprised, then doubtfully at his wife, who quickly stooped and kissed him. "Jak's right, Mr. C. You get some more sleep so you'll get strong quicker."
Dutifully he closed his eyes and immediately his regular breathing told the three he was asleep once more.
Quietly Jak drew the others out of the bunkroom and closed the door. Then his eyes shone and he grabbed his mother and danced her about, while Jon "tried to get into the act."
"He's almost well; he's almost well!" Jak chanted.
Jon yelled in honest praise. "You did a grand job, Owl." But his voice broke into a boyish treble with the excitement.
After several minutes of jubilation, Jon went back into the control room and began figuring their course to Planet Three.
He turned on the receiver and pointed the directional antenna. Soon the broadcast of their solar signal came in. This one about the sun had most worried him, but he could read it clearly: "This solar system was first discovered and charted by Tad Carver of Terra, on fourteenth January, 2136. It has been named 'Carveria,' and the five planets and seven satellites are being charted and named. Details will be filed with the Terran Colonial Board."
Finally Jon finished his astrogation, then went back into the living quarters. "Ready to set course to Three, Folks. Strap down while I change course."
"How long'll it take?"
"Just under a couple of days at two G's."
"Ouch! Do we have to go that fast?" Jak complained.
"You want to get there, don't you?" Jon turned away indifferently, while Mrs. Carver smiled at Jak and shrugged.
During the balance of that "day" Jon stayed in the control room. When either of the others looked in, he was studying intently. Right after breakfast the next morning he put in a long session at the computer and his drawing board, then after lunch went into the storeroom. After a while he came out with his arms filled with wires, cells, relays and other oddments, which he carried into the control room.
The others, busy with their own work and chores, paid no special attention to what Jon was doing. Seeing him busy like this had become so commonplace they seldom bothered even asking what he was doing when he did not volunteer the information.
But as they approached Planet Three early the following morning, under negative acceleration, all three were in the control room, peering intently into the visiplates.
What would they find there? Would there be people of some sort? Cities? Jungles, deserts, ice fields?
All three minds were busy with such conjectures as they came closer in. Their instruments had already told them Three possessed an atmosphere containing water vapor, so they knew it could not be entirely untenable, unless the air contained poisonous gases. But what real conditions they would discover there remained to be seen.
They had already found, charted and photographed the two small moons that circled the planet. One of these was fairly large—about nine hundred miles in diameter, and the other much smaller, about a hundred and fifty. Three, itself, was about five thousand miles through.
"There are clouds down there," Jak called suddenly as they approached ever nearer at constantly decreasing speed.
"Yes, I see them."
"And there's a big ocean!" Their mother was equally excited.
"Three's only about thirty million farther away than Two, although on the opposite side of the sun right now. So there shouldn't be too much difference, except Three'll be colder," Jon stated. "We're about a hundred miles up now, so I'm throwing us into a descending spiral."
"There's a big mountain range, and some of the peaks are snow-covered," Jak called out a few minutes later.
"I see them. We're down to about twenty miles now, and I'm setting a crisscross orbit for two or three revolutions to get a better view and take our first pictures. Mom, if you can tear yourself away, I'm hungry."
She stepped back from the screen, laughing. "You're always hungry." Then she glanced at her wrist-chronom and gasped in dismay. "No wonder—it's over an hour past lunchtime!"
"We'll yell if anything especially interesting shows up," Jak called as she was leaving.
By circling the planet from east to west they kept to the daylight side most of the time, and as the hours passed they were able to get most of their pictures and reports on the geography, climate and other conditions. Their spectro-analyzer showed considerable mineral deposits in many of the places over which they passed.
They saw plenty of vegetation and Jon exclaimed about its coloring.
"Must be fall here," Jak explained. "Unless, of course, those plants don't contain chlorophyll, which I doubt."
But nowhere did they see anything that looked like the works of intelligent beings. Like Planet Two, there was no sign of people anywhere.
When they became so tired they could no longer keep awake, Jon set the ship into a higher, safer orbit, and they all went to bed. Their father had awakened only once during the day, and then only for a few minutes, nor had his wife allowed him to talk, greatly as the boys, especially, desired it.
After breakfast the next morning Jon maneuvered the ship down closer to the surface and they completed exploring the planet, taking their pictures and recordings. Jak made tests and reported the atmosphere not poisonous, although so scant they would have to wear suits most of the time when outdoors.
"It's lots better than Mars, but not near as dense as Terra or Two back there," he told Jon. "Temp's below freezing, but I imagine it'll get warmer when the sun's nearer noon here."
"Humans can adapt themselves to living here, then." Jon's voice was joyful. "They've already colonized planets worse than this, as far as temperature and air are concerned."
"Yes, the human animal seems to be marvelously adaptable to almost any conditions not actually poisonous," Jak said admiringly. "There's even a colony of people from the High Andes of Souamer living on Mars now, without domes."
"They could transport those Andean Indians to Mars direct because they were used to living in the rarefied atmosphere of the high mountains, eh?"
"That's right. Those Indians would have suffocated at sea level back on Terra. Indeed, they seldom went down the mountains below ten thousand feet because of the discomfort. On Mars, they had some difficulty at first, but I understand the second generation born there are perfectly at home."
Jon's blue eyes had been watching his detectors, even while his ears had been listening to Jak's explanations. So far he had not discovered any of that strange fuel-metal—if it was fuel—they had found on Two. He spoke of this now to his brother. "Wonder if those people didn't leave any caches here on Three, or what?"
"Maybe they didn't like cold weather." Jak grinned. "More likely, though, either we haven't come close enough to detect it, or else they may only have made a cache on one planet in a system."
"That's probably it. I've been watching for it all the way in, and 'Annie' didn't chirp at all. Well, do we land and see what the joint is like?"
"Don't know about you, Chubby, but I sure want to. How about closer to the equator? Ought to be warmer there, and more comfortable. I want to study that plant life."
"OK by me—if you don't try to load the boat with your specimens." Jon laughed, and Jak joined in sheepishly.
"I promise not to go hog-wild like I did last time."
"Going to land, Mom. Strap down," Jon called into the intercom.
Jak reached for the sheet of landing instructions, but Jon shook his head. "Don't think we'll need those. Tighten your belt, here we go."
"Hey, what gives?" Jak's eyes widened as he saw his brother throw in one switch and then take his hands off the controls, although his eyes were alertly watching his many dials and lights, and his body was tensely ready for emergencies.
Jon did not answer, and Jak watched in the plate as the ground below appeared to rush closer each second. It almost seemed to him they were not slowing as fast as was usual on landings, but he was not unduly worried—he trusted Jon to know what he was doing ... even if he didn't!
But apparently Jon was not satisfied—for when the ship was only a few hundred yards above ground, he suddenly worked frantically at his controls, and the nose of the little yacht came up sharply and she zoomed into the upper air with a push from her stern tubes.
Thirty-some miles up, Jon set the ship into a circular orbit, then got out of his pilot's seat and began tinkering with some of the controls.
"What's wrong?" Jak asked. "How come you went down without following the manual, and then came up again?"
But Jon was tight-lipped and uncommunicative. Their mother's voice came over the intercom, asking why they had not landed, and Jon answered her question.
"Just a slight miscalculation of height, Mom, so I came up to try again," he answered. "Stay strapped down—I'll be going down again in a minute."
Soon he was back in his seat, scanning his various instruments, then again Jak saw him throw that one switch. Once more the little ship began settling toward the ground beneath, without any handling of the controls.
This time the landing was smooth, soft and even. Still without any move by Jon, Jak could feel the various generators and engines stop, the landing props go down, and finally the board show a clear green "neutral" condition.
"How ... how come?" Jak gasped, and this time Jon chose to answer.
"Just rigged up a series of photo-electric cells and relays, so now all I have to do is throw one switch and it takes care of all the little details of landing, just as this other one does of take-offs." Jon tried to make it sound like an offhand comment. "My height-to-descent-speed ratio was off a bit, and that was what I had to fix."
"But ... but that's something brand new, isn't it? I never heard of such a thing before." Jak still could hardly believe what he had just witnessed.
"Oh, it wasn't so much a much." Jon looked down as he guessed that his brother would soon realize what a remarkable thing he had done.
"Boy, you're good!" Jak applauded, and as their mother came into the control room, he almost shouted, "Jon's gone and...."
"Landed so we could go out a bit and make a fuller report in our log," Jon cut in sharply, with a warning look at his senior. "How's Pop?"
"Been moving about some, although he hasn't wakened fully yet today. His breathing is much easier. He still makes noises—but then, he always did sort of snore when he slept."
The boys went with her into the bunkroom to look at their father before they started outside. There was a flush of color on his skin, although it was paler than its usual state. When Jak examined the side of his patient's head he could see that it was practically healed. Also, the broken leg seemed in fine shape, as seen through the clear plastic of the cast.
"He'll be waking up for good any day now, I'm sure," he said thankfully.
"Gosh, I hope so," Jon said. "I feel like a fish out of water without my Pop."
"You seem to be doing fine, anyway," his mother cheered him. "And so is Jak," she hastened to add, fearful her elder son might think her prejudiced.
The boys went out to get ready for their outside trip.
"What's the big idea, not letting me tell Mother about your new dinkus for landings and take-offs?" Jak railed.
"Aw, she wouldn't understand it, and it'd worry her for fear it wouldn't work." Jon was clearly uncomfortable about the praise he could not help seeing in his brother's eyes. "I'll tell Pop, when he wakes up. Come on, I'll race you into our suits."
The boys donned their spacesuits, and examined each other to make sure they were "tight." They saw to it that their guns and bandoliers were fully loaded; that they had with them what tools and other equipment they felt might be needed. Then they opened the lockdoors and went outside.
They started off in a predetermined direction, having made plans to go about five miles. Then they would swing in a circle around the ship. If they saw anything they thought exceptionally interesting, they would make short side trips, and if necessary, complete their circle on another day. In any event, they had promised their mother to be back by dark.
The first leg of their journey was completed without any excitement, although Jak was continually finding new plants he wanted to collect for future study.
"Nix, Owl, not this trip," Jon kept protesting. "You promised, remember?"
"Oh, all right, killjoy. But there's so much here I want to find out about."
"Yes, so much you couldn't even make a dent in it in a lifetime. Want us to leave you behind to do it?"
"You just try that, and I'll knock your teeth loose."
"You and what platoon of space marines?" Jon jeered good-naturedly, knowing that with his greater size and strength Jak could not make good his threat—even if he had really wanted to.
Bickering in more or less friendly fashion, they covered their first five miles, then turned to the left and started circling. About a mile of this and they entered a fairly large wood. The trees here were so strange the boys looked about them with a growing excitement.
Unconsciously, they drew closer together, and finally Jon voiced what was in both their minds.
"I'm beginning to get scared, Jak. Ought we to keep trying to go this way?"
"I'm not sure," slowly. "I'm getting a feeling there's something here that seems to be unfriendly—perhaps dangerous. But there isn't a thing we can see—not even animal life."
"Maybe it's only because this forest is so unlike either those on Terra or the ones on Two." But Jon gripped his rifle more tightly, and his thumb unlocked the safety catch.
The two boys finally came to a dead halt in a small clearing perhaps a hundred feet in diameter, and examined more closely the few trees and bushes about them. The ground on which they were now standing was bare and sandy, although beneath the trees it had been more like black loam.
"This sand must be why there's practically no vegetation here," Jak said. He dug into the ground a bit, and found it to be sand as deep as he went.
Rising, he looked even more closely at the trees about the edge of the clearing.
Not one of them was the straight, slim type with which they were familiar. These were ungainly and appeared stunted, although many were actually close to thirty feet tall. Even so, they looked too large in diameter for their height. None of them had more than five or six twigless, leafless limbs, and those were almost as large in diameter as the trunks from which they grew. These branches twisted and curved, although in most cases the curve was upward, so that the leafless limbs often ended at a higher point than the main trunk of the tree.
Suddenly Jak began laughing—but with a high-pitched, mirthless laughter. As Jon looked at him in surprise, the elder tried to calm himself.
"I know what makes them look so scary," he finally said between gasps. "It's that weird look. But remember those pictures we've seen of the Zona and Newmex deserts in Noramer, back home? Remember the Josha trees growing there? They're as alien-looking as anything on Terra, and these look something like them."
Jon, too, began grinning as remembrance came. "'Most let ourselves get scared over nothing, didn't we? Come on, let's travel." And he started forward.
Yet the strangeness persisted, and before the boys had passed through the fringe of those tortured trees on the other side of that wood they started to get that queazy feeling again, in spite of their realization of what caused it. They began going more slowly, cautiously; ready for a quick turn and run, yet both inwardly hating themselves for the fear, and each determined not to let the other know he was afraid.
But it was with a distinct sense of relief that they saw the end of that forest ahead of them. Unconsciously they hurried their steps until they were almost trotting.
For the balance of their trip Jon was strangely acquiescent as Jak became more and more engrossed in the strange plant life of this world Three. He knew that this was Jak's dish, and he was perfectly willing to defer to the elder's knowledge and desire to learn. His main concern was to keep his brother from overloading himself with specimens, or from loitering too much.
Jak had been especially studying the soil here, Jon noticed, and finally he asked about it. "Notice one peculiar thing about this planet?"
"What's on your mind?"
"The total absence, as far as we've seen, of any sort or type of protoplasmic life," Jak reported.
"Hey, that's right, though I hadn't thought of it before. Our examination from the air, I remember now, showed no animals, birds or people. Plenty of vegetation, though."
"Yes, it has everything in that line. I wonder, though...." He paused, and he grew thoughtful.
"Wonder what?"
"How those plants can grow, without any worms or ants or anything to loosen and irrigate the soil, and no animals or birds to make fertilizers, or bees or butterflies or anything to carry pollen?"
Jon shrugged. "Wouldn't have the foggiest. That's your line, not mine. But they must do it some way—there's sure lots of plant life here."
But Jak was still shaking his head in puzzlement as they finally returned to the ship.
It was quite dark outside when the boys went into the control room after dinner. Jon went over to the window-ports, while Jak began working with his plant specimens.
"Jak, come here," Jon called after a moment or two. The elder, prompted by the curious urgency in his brother's voice, left his specimens and ran to the other's side.
"What're those things?"
Jak stared through the port in amazement. Outside, drifting across the clearing, were nearly a dozen large, spherical things like ghostly white balloons. They must have been almost a yard in diameter, and by straining their eyes the boys could see tentacles or tendrils of some sort depending from the bottom surfaces.
"Gosh, never saw anything like those. Let's go out and see what they are."
"Let's not and say we did," Jon retorted. "I want to find out more about them first." He went over to the control panel and switched on the searchlight, as well as the pilot's visi-screen. Looking into the latter, he was able to direct the light so it shone on a couple of the floating balls.
Jak was studying the plants—for so he believed them to be—more carefully, now that they were lighted. But after a moment he yelped excitedly, "Hey, they're deflating. Must be the light does it."
Jon was watching them in his screen. "Yes, I see now. What causes it?"
"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."
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—ifwe could find it, andifwe 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."
"Ifthey 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 theStar Roverapproached 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 thedepthof 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 foundlife!
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, clearping, 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 andStar Rovershuddered 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."
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!"