Journey Into Space (13 page)

“You keep right on with that radio, Lemmy. The sooner you contact Earth, the sooner we’ll get away and the happier I’ll be,” said Mitch.

“Doing my best,” came Lemmy’s reply, “but nothing I’ve heard yet is trying to get us, that’s for certain. Hullo, Earth, hullo. This is Rocketship Luna trying to contact Earth. Rocketship Luna calling from Moon. Come in please. We need to hear from you urgently.”

He positioned the control to receive and listened hopefully, but nothing was heard except what sounded to me like a programme of music from India or some other Eastern country. There seemed to be quite a lot of music of one kind or another.

“Music, music, music, nothing but music,” said Lemmy impatiently. And then, right out of the blue, came a radio announcement that caused us all to stop whatever we were doing and listen intently. Lemmy had tuned in to London; to a news broadcast. They were announcing that there could be little hope for us or our ship. According to the announcer we had taken off from the Moon on 27th October and the last radio message Control had received from us was that we would be calling again within six minutes but that nothing further was heard. Apparently a statement from the launching ground had said that we must either have crashed back on the Moon or missed the Earth entirely, in which case we would be somewhere out in space and lost forever. They announced our names, something about our lives, then changed the subject to a political one.

“What does that mean?” said Lemmy. “That we’re dead?”

“Officially, yes,” said Jet.

“Blimey. But we didn’t say we had taken off, we said we were about to take off.”

“Never mind,” said Jet. “Get back to the transmitter and keep trying. Try to raise somebody.”

There was a sudden cry from Mitch. “Hey, Doc, Lemmy, Jet, come and take a look at this.” He was standing at the control table gazing at a picture on the televiewer screen above it. In full view was the crater into which Mitch had fallen. It was slightly to one side of the ship and was completely bathed in the sunlight, although the Moon’s terminator had hardly left its eastern rim. That was no more than we would have expected to see. But the astonishing thing that had brought the shout from Mitch was what was
in
the crater.

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Jet. “Is that what Lemmy saw during the guessing game? Is it, Lemmy? Is it?” Jet had raised his voice rather unnecessarily, as though the object sitting there in the crater was Lemmy’s fault.

“Well, you should know,” he told him. “You said you saw it yourself. You all did.”

We had, of course, but not like this, with the rising sun lighting up every detail. Before, we had only seen it as a shadow, with the pulsating light beneath it.

“That’s when it must have arrived,” I said, “during the guessing game. And it’s been sitting out there in the crater ever since. What else are we to think?”

“Then who is it?” said Mitch. “What is it?”

“It must be H. G. Wells’ lot,” said Lemmy.

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Jet. “We’ll go out there.”

“Eh?” It was Lemmy again. “But we can’t. It’s time for us to leave. We can’t spare the oxygen.”

“We’ve got a few hours yet,” said Jet.

“But you don’t know what that thing is. Or what it can do to us.”

“That’s the very reason I want to go. This is the most important thing we’ve seen since we landed here. We can’t pull out on it now. What would they think of us down on Earth?”

“But, Jet.  .  .” protested Lemmy.

“You willing to come with me, Mitch?” went on Jet, ignoring Lemmy’s plea.

“I’ll say,” said Mitch. “I’m all for it.”

“Then get the suits, Lemmy. Mitch and I are going out.”

The object sitting outside in the crater in which Mitch had nearly lost his life was about sixty feet in diameter and fitted the ‘bowl’ very snugly. It was, as Lemmy had said during the guessing game, doughnut-shaped, and covered by a semi-circular dome. The space ship, for that is what I took it to be, rested directly on the crater floor. Its walls were perfectly smooth; there was no kind of opening. If anybody was inside this strange craft, they made no attempt to show themselves. If anybody had come out of it, they had left no tracks behind.

Before he and Mitch entered the airlock, Jet promised not to wander out of range of the televiewer and to keep in constant radio contact. They took a camera with them.

Meanwhile Lemmy was still trying to contact base. While Jet and Mitch were in the airlock he picked up something. “Hey, Doc,” he called excitedly, “I’ve got ‘em.”

“Is it Control?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. It’s so faint. Listen.”

I did and finally made out a weak, rather tinny voice. “Hullo, Luna--hullo,” it said.

“Blast that French station,” said Lemmy as the voice was drowned out. “Hullo, Earth, Rocketship Luna calling. From the Moon. Come in--whoever you are--come in please.”

“Weather Station XLG, calling from Greenland.” The voice was clearer now. “Calling Rocketship Luna, and if this is a joke it’s a pretty poor one.”

I thought Lemmy was going to explode. “Rocketship Luna calling Weather Station XLG. And if you think it’s a joke to be stranded on the Moon for fourteen days, you come and try it.”

“But,” came the voice, “we thought all hope for you had been abandoned.”

“It will be unless somebody does something about us, and quick,” snapped Lemmy.

“Who is it?” asked Jet over the intercom.

“Never mind,” replied Mitch impatiently. “Let’s get outside. Lemmy can handle the radio.”

“OK, then, Doc,” said Jet. “Open the door.”

“Main door opening,” I announced, and the whirr of the heavy motor filled the cabin.

“Where did you say you were, Luna?” came the faint but persistent voice from Earth.

“Where do you think?” said Lemmy. “On the Moon, of course. Been stuck up here a fortnight, Earth time, and unable to communicate due to power failure. Can you help us?”

“We’re in contact with London. Will that help you?”

“I’ll say it will. Tell them we’re trying to contact the launching ground at Luna City, Australia. Ask London to raise them and tell them to communicate with us, and say it’s urgent. Very urgent. A matter of life and death.”

By now Mitch and Jet had reached the Moon’s surface and were making their way towards the crater.

“I have you in full view,” I told them. “Does that thing look any different now you’re closer to it?”

“No, it doesn’t. It still appears to be made of metal. No visible seams or doors in the sides.”

“Check,” I told him.

“We’re going to approach it now, Doc, for a closer look.”

“Watch your step.”

“We will.”

I had no doubt that Jet would be cautious, but I wasn’t sure about Mitch. The object in the crater seemed to excite him beyond reason. “Jet,” I heard him saying, “this is the biggest thing that could have happened to us. This must mean there is life in other parts of the Universe.”

“Now don’t let’s go jumping to any hasty conclusions,” said Jet firmly. “We’ll just take a close look at it, get some photographs, then go back into the ship and head for home.”

Meanwhile the radio operator in Greenland came through again: “Hullo, hullo, Rocketship Luna. Weather Station XLG calling Rocketship Luna. Over.”

“Hullo, XLG,” said Lemmy cheerfully, “Luna calling.”

“Have passed your message to London who are now contacting Luna City. Keep listening out. You can expect to hear from them shortly.”

“Thank you, Greenland, thank you very much. If you’re ever in London I’ll buy you a drink.”

“We could do with it now; it’s darned cold where we are.”

“Cold!” said Lemmy. “You should come up here if you want to know what cold is. And heat too.”

“Are you all safe? Jet, Mitchell and Doc Matthews?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“Glad to hear it,” replied the weather station. “Now you’d better listen out for Luna City. They’ll be calling you soon. Good luck, Luna.”

“Thanks, and thanks for your help,” said Lemony.

“Hullo, Doc--Jet calling.”

“Receiving you,” I told him. “Go ahead.”

“We’re getting very close to the crater now. Keep us in range.”

“Sure thing,” I replied.

Then came the longed-for voice of Control.

“Hullo, Luna. Hullo, Rocketship Luna. Control calling. Can you hear me? Come in please.”

Lemmy danced up and down in his excitement. “Control, it’s Control. Did you hear that, Doc? We’ve got ‘em. Hullo, Control. Lemmy calling. Lemmy Barnet calling from the Moon. Where’ve you been all this time?”

“Where have you been? What happened? Why didn’t you take off?”

“We couldn’t. The whole ship packed in. We’ve been stuck up here ever since, but we’re all right now.”

“Well, thank goodness for that. We’d given you up as lost.”

“Well, we’re not. We’re all here. Large as life and can’t wait to .  .  .oh blimey! Hullo, Earth .  .  . hullo.”

Out of the loudspeaker came the weird, almost musical sounds we had all heard before. The noise sent a cold chill down my spine. I looked at Jet and Mitch who were now almost on the crater’s rim. They were standing, rooted to the ground, watching the dome of the space ship. It was slowly opening.

I fully expected something to come out.
What,
I hadn’t a clue. A monstrous-looking, semi-human being? Octopus-shaped Martians? How was I to know? I almost trembled for the safety of Jet and Mitch standing out there, without weapons and completely unprotected against whatever might emerge from the strange object they had gone to inspect.

My first reaction was to call Jet and Mitch back. But Jet needed no bidding. He was all for making a strategic retreat, but Mitch had other ideas. “You can go back if you want to,” he said, “but I’m not going. Not yet.”

“Mitch,” I called, “where’s your common sense? Jet, bring him back.”

“Yes, come on, Mitch. I’m ordering you back to the ship.”

“And I’m not going,” he said.

“But Mitch  .  .  .” went on Jet.

“You’re not afraid, are you?” asked the engineer.

“Don’t be absurd. But suppose there’s something in there? Something hostile. How do we defend ourselves? We have no weapons--nothing.”

“Even if we had they probably wouldn’t be any good.”

“That’s all the more reason for caution,” said Jet. “If we stay out here and anything happens to us, what about Lemmy and Doc? How do they get home?”

“I don’t give a darn,” said Mitch obstinately. “I’m going on. I’m going right up to that thing and if nothing comes out I’m going to take a look inside.”

“Oh no you’re not,” said Jet. “It’s too risky.”

And with that, he took Mitch’s arm and tried to pull him back.

“Jet--Mitch,” I called, “for God’s sake, don’t struggle. The suits--you might damage them.”

Mitch laughed triumphantly. “Did you hear that? If you use force you might kill us both. Ha, that’s better,” he said as Jet released his hold; “fighting won’t get us anywhere.”

“Mitch,” said Jet, “what’s got into you?”

“It shouldn’t be hard to figure out,” said the Australian. “For years I’ve worked on our ship--sweating my guts out designing her and building her. And then, when we get here, there’s another one. Completely different, probably holding a lot of secrets about long-distance space travel. And you want me to bypass it. Go back home without so much as taking a look at this one.”

“We’ve photographed it, haven’t we?” said Jet.

“Photographs--what can they tell us? You might as well have photographed the image on the televiewer screen.”

“Mitch,” said Jet resignedly, “what exactly do you want to do?”

Mitch spoke slowly and deliberately. “I want to go up to that thing. To touch it. To walk all round it and examine it.”

“But the top has just opened. Something must have opened it and that something may come out.”

“I’m prepared to risk it. Now do you want to come with me or not?”

Jet hesitated only a moment and then said: “All right.”

“No, Jet, wait!” I called.

By this time Lemmy had given up his attempt to re-contact Control and had come over to my side. “For heaven’s sake, Jet, do as Doc says,” he pleaded.

“Mitch,” said Jet deliberately, “I’ll come as far as the crater’s rim. If you want to go down into it, you go. But don’t leave my sight.”

“All right,” said Mitch. “It’ll be better than nothing.”

“Did you hear that, Doc?” asked Jet.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Then keep your eye on that screen. If you see anything wrong, or anything peculiar that we don’t notice, tell us at once.”

“Yes, Jet.”

“Then come on, Mitch,” he said, “let’s go. But slowly, take your time.”

“Blimey, Doc,” said Lemmy as we watched the two men walking round the edge of the crater to the side where the door had opened. “Why can’t they leave that thing out there alone and let us go home?”

“Quiet, Lemmy,” I told him, “Mitch is going down into the crater now. Hullo, Jet--everything all right?”

“Up to now it is.”

“How about you, Mitch?” I asked.

“I’m not dead yet,” he replied. “Walking across the crater floor now.”

I could just see the top of his head as he descended the wall. Within a minute or two he was close enough to the strange craft to run his gloved hand over her. “Hm,” I heard him say, “she seems to be made of metal all right.”

“What kind of metal?” asked Jet.

“Wouldn’t like to say. Looks like aluminium but I don’t suppose it is.”

Mitch lifted his foot and gave the wall a solid kick. As he did so a hollow, metallic boom came out of the intercom speaker.

“And darned solid, too,” said Mitch

“Hey,” called Jet, “do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Kick it.”

Mitch kicked it.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Your kick. I heard it.”

“Impossible,” said Mitch. “You can’t hear any noise up here. No atmosphere for sound waves to travel in. Besides, you’ve got your helmet on.”

“I didn’t hear it direct,” said Jet, “I heard it through my radio. Doc, Lemmy, did you hear it?”