About to accept, Charlie turned and glanced at
Navajo.
"Oh, I'll be sure to have some of the grain sent to
him, from what we have aboard—we got it last night, when we got
your supplies on the shore, Charles. And he will have some of the
apples, too!"
"Okay, Dondee, swell. But tell them only one or two
apples at the most. More might make Nav sick, though he'd eat them
all if I let him."
With another glance back at Navajo, Charlie
followed Dondee through the panel opening, then into a tall,
glistening transparent cylinder, within the larger cylinder of the
deck.
"It is an airlift," Dondee's impulse informed
Charlie. Then he pushed a large, saucer-size plastic-looking
button, barely touching it—and the airlift started smoothly up on
its cushioned course. "We could have walked the spiral outside,"
and Dondee pointed to the circling stairway that spiraled about
them as they ascended.
"It's sure smooth!" 'Charlie said. "Hey—look at the
steps outside—they're moving around us! Like being on the inside of
a giant barber pole!"
"It seems like that, but we are the only things in
motion now," Dondee said. "I'm glad we took the airlift, for the
sixth tier is a long climb up, about like going up four or five
levels in the buildings of your world, Charles."
Dondee let go a very high speed
thought concerning what Charlie meant by
barber pole.
Without realizing it,
Charlie
reflected the impulse reply,
without opening his mouth to speak at all. He only
thought
his
answer.
"Charles! Do you realize what you just did? You
actually replied to my question—and without sending a single sound
wave! You didn't even open your mouth. I am sure, Charles, for I
was watching you when I sent the high speed thought."
Charlie smiled, feeling proud of the new
accomplishment in the Interplanetary language.
"I guess you know now that maybe
our world here on Earth is not
all
made up of primitives! That's something you
better remember, Dondee!"
Just then the airlift stopped at
the indicated tier, and the concave panel slid around
automatically. Charlie followed the alien boy out. Not empty like
the lower dome tier, the sixth deck of the Saturnian star ship was
a great lounge, and
luxurious
was the word that flashed through Charlie's mind
as he glanced over the sea of comfortable, low-built scarlet lounge
seats that were built into the deck. They were the most modernistic
form-fitting chairs Charlie had ever seen.
This deck of the biggest tier of all, being the
middle tier, was covered with something that felt like a soft
padding of moss. It was springy to walk on, and reminded Charlie a
little of the pine needles, up in the high country under the
evergreens. Only, the sixth tier of the star ship didn't have that
fine green smell of the pines. The big lounge smelled a little bit
like an airplane, Charlie thought. Just what a space ship should
smell like. It reminded him, too, of a new car showroom. The smell
of shiny paint and new motors. It was a good smell.
"This is the main rotunda of the discus," Dondee
told him. "Nearly all personnel of the ship come here, when they
either want food, or just to rest awhile."
"It sure is a big place," Charlie said. "I bet it
could hold at least a thousand people, all sitting around here at
once." I
"Oh no, Charles. It can only seat four hundred on
this I deck."
"Only
four hundred!" and Charlie whistled softly. "Dondee, you
should see some of the little jobs on my world. Even the biggest
can only hold somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and fifty,
and they'd have to sit pretty close together."
"Well, this is the largest tier, Charles—or deck,
as you call it. In your world measurements I believe it is about
two hundred yards across the center. Or, if you take the radius, it
would be a hundred yards from spot center, out to any point along
the panoramic view."
"Any way you figure, it's a doggone big space ship.
Hey— when do we eat?"
"Oh, I almost forgot. Over here—" and as he
pointed, Charlie saw several small rows of sparkling window
circles. He copied Dondee, taking out several neatly wrapped
packets in something that looked like cellophane. "You just push
the button—yes, like that, at whatever other window you want to
open." With an armful of the assorted packets, Charlie took one of
the crystalline cylinders of a sparkling green liquid that Dondee
enthusiastically recommended. Seating themselves over near the
broad panoramic of the sixth tier, Charlie noticed for the first
time the great height—he could
see for miles around the Saddle Mountain peaks.
Dondee climbed over one lounge seat to take another facing the one
Charlie had taken.
Charlie looked out a moment longer, his searching
gaze taking in the distant railroad bridge far down the Colorado,
past the non-existent town of Earp on the California side, and also
the northern end of the lake in the opposite direction.
"Enjoy the recliner," came the easy impulse from
Dondee. "We can explore the ship after. Most of all, I can show you
the top control dome of the flagship. That is, if the Navigator is
not in there."
"You mean, there are still more decks—tiers, up
over this one? I thought I counted eleven last night, but figured
they weren't all decks."
"Oh yes, Charles. Exactly eleven. We're only in six
now, the middle tier. All the others graduate downward in size from
this one, in either direction, to the domes. Sort of the north and
south poles of the discus!"
"Sort o f "
Charlie repeated. "Doggone, Dondee, your impulses sound more
like Arizona impulses every minute!"
The alien boy grinned, pleased at the
compliment.
"And," he said, "each dome is a number one tier.
From either dome, we count only to the middle of the ship."
"I bet this top dome is about as high as Saddle
Mountain."
"It is," agreed the alien boy. "The Navigator chose
those two peaks right here, because it seemed the best place to
balance the discus for later departure. It allows the gyroscopic
rotables to turn freely. That is, so the rotables can get up enough
revolutions before we leave the planet's surface,
and later adjust to the magno lanes out in the
Timeless Sea."
As if realizing he should not have reminded Charlie
of the coming departure, hurriedly Dondee began opening his food
packets, then flipped over the side panel of the lounge seat. It
formed a compact, sturdy table across the chair before him.
"Hey, that's pretty neat!" said Charlie, and he
too, released the lounge arm button. "What's this stuff made
of,
Dondee?"
"Oh—I guess in your world, oh I
know—you'd call it
berry
juice. It's a product of the Barrier
World."
Charlie opened the small folded top, then tasted
the bright green liquid.
"You may not like it?"
"Mmmmm!" Charlie exclaimed, putting it back to his
mouth again for a longer drink. "That's the best soda I ever
tasted."
"Soda?" came the impulse from Dondee, as he didn't
even pause in drinking from his tube of liquid. "What do you mean
when you call it soda?"
Charlie explained briefly about carbonated drinks
and drug store soda fountains, but he had to remove the liquid from
his mouth when he talked.
They both noticed it at the same time and
laughed.
"Dondee, that's the one good thing about your old
Interplanetary language! I mean, you can get your mouth stuffed
full right now with that frozen dessert—and you can still talk a
stream!"
Dondee, chewing heartily, kept right on
talking.
"Sure, but I notice in your old Earth language, you
have to waste time whenever you want to talk!"
Charlie laughed and so did the alien boy. Just then
Dondee leaned forward in his lounge chair, and looked down
curiously at the high-heeled Western boots Charlie wore. He reached
out, spinning one of the spur's star-wheels with his finger. He
smiled happily at Charlie as he repeated the process. Seeing his
interest, Charlie removed the boot promptly, and passed it over to
him.
"They're called spurs," Charlie explained. "Sort of
a giddyap deal, to make your horse go faster. Like this—"
Charlie quickly straddled the curved foot rest of
the lounge, demonstrating for Dondee. The alien boy nodded eagerly,
as he sent back the quick impulse that he understood about
riding.
"That is how you make Navajo travel faster?"
"Oh no, Dondee. I'd never use them on Navajo. I
only wear them because I got them from Uncle John, when we went out
on the Indian Reservation once. Uncle John kind of figured I sure
wanted them."
"That is a very beautiful stone,"
Dondee sent the admiring thought impulse. "It's turquoise. One in
each spur, and they're two of the biggest and most perfect ones,"
Charlie bragged. "But the stars—" Dondee said, frowning, "the
points on the stars are all worn down. How did that happen?" "I did
it, Dondee. I filed them down off the star-wheels, the day I got
them, so they'd be dull and short." "But
why
, Charles?"
"For old Nav. I didn't want to get excited and
maybe forget sometime, and use them on him. I wouldn't do anything
< in the world that would hurt old Nav, Dondee. He's the best
horse I ever had."
"How many horses have you had, Charles?"
"Oh . . . just the one."
Dondee didn't say anything for a long time.
Instead, he just kept spinning the small silver stars on the boots
Charlie had passed to him.
"He's
still
the best horse in the whole
world," Charlie repeated, watching as the alien boy continued to
slowly spin the star-wheels.
"I wish," came the far-away impulse from Dondee
finally, "that I had a horse, too. A horse like Navajo."
C H AP T E R SE VEN
The Timeless Sea
Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!
Jumping from the lounge seat, Dondee tossed the
boots to Charlie. He paused a moment as Charlie yanked them on and
worked his feet down into them.
"What's up, Dondee?"
"That was the preparatory alarm sounding," came the
return impulse. He beckoned for Charlie to follow him as he ran to
a better position at the panoramic.
"There—" he pointed, "hold onto that grip-safety.
You probably won't need it, but we are supposed to hold one. It is
an alloy grip, to insure your footing, even though the centrifugal
balance is perfect, no matter what the ship's position is."
"Are—are we going to—"
"Yes, Charles! That was the signal to all personnel
aboard to check in at their stations. There are only the crew
besides us, about one hundred and seventy all together."
Charlie, as he stared at Dondee, was mixed in his
feelings. He was not much interested now, as to how many of the
aliens were on board. There was something else of far greater
importance to him. In fact, the only thing that mattered was that
at any moment he would be leaving his own world. On his way to
another world, over ninety-five times the mass volume of Earth. It
was a place millions of miles away from Arizona. He stared
unseeingly at Dondee, then turned his face slowly back to the glare
of the desert, the bright afternoon sunlight, coming from his own
desert, through the panoramic view. But now, he was hermetically
sealed off from that Arizona country, perhaps forever. Charlie
found it hard to get the full impact of what was happening.
"To your people, Charles, we shall seem like a
brief flash in the pure Sun's light."
But in spite of the uncertainty, and due somewhat
to the alien boy's happiness and excitement, Charlie gradually
found himself becoming a little excited, too. He was at the point
of going on the greatest adventure anyone from his world could
possibly have. And that adventure was about to begin. He wanted to
say something, do something, but all he could say as Dondee put a
hand on his shoulder and gave him a friendly shake, was:
"Will—will we feel it much? When we leave the
ground, Dondee?"
"Oh sure!"
"How—" and with Charlie's startled impulse as he
spoke, Dondee saw his concern.
"Oh, I didn't mean that, Charles. There is actually
no effect at all, except the excitement—that's what I meant. The
rotables balance so perfectly, no matter what angle the discus
turns off at, or how fast, the revolutions stabilize the
gravitational pull beneath us. The magno lanes are the tracks for
the rotables, the rotables which are the greatest engineering work
of our world, Charles."
"What is outer space like, Dondee?"
Assured by Charlie's interest, the alien boy smiled
happily.
"It is—well, it's like rocking on a giant sea. Even
better, Charles. In fact, it is a sea. The people of the higher
civilizations do not call it outer space. They know it only as the
greatest and most honored of all seas. That's why it's called the
Timeless Sea throughout our Solar System. It is on those magno
lanes of that sea that we shall travel, Charles."
Catching still more of the feeling of enthusiasm
held by Dondee, Charlie began to forget a little about leaving his
own world, as he asked and Dondee answered the questions.
Lower dome, lower dome—coordinate rotables.
"That," explained Dondee, "was the commanding
Navigator in the upper control dome. The rotables beneath us are
already turning at over two thousand revolutions per minute. Your
world time, Charles. They must coordinate with the upper ones, in
the pre-flight prelude."
"The Navigator again," Dondee said with a nod.
Rotables coordinating, sir. All preparations made
for lane contact.
"The second navigator in command," Dondee said. "He
is down below, on the lower dome tier."
A short three-blast siren sounded, like the one
Charlie had heard the night before.
"Watch now!"
Charlie looked from Dondee, out through the
panoramic, at the great sprawling desert land, stretching out in
all the distances his eyes could see. His gaze stopped on the
distant chocolate-colored mountains to the East, mountains he knew
so well. But as he stared at their jagged edges beyond the
white-heated sands, Charlie's knuckles also showed white through
his tanned skin. His grip was very tight on the grip-safety. Just
then it happened!
Charlie froze there on the spot—staring out hard as
the distant horizon tilted crazily. The great jagged chocolate
mountains swung hard in an easy motion—standing up vertically on
end, sideways. Then with a hardly noticeable sway beneath his feet,
Charlie saw the distant mountains slide back down in a swift and
graceful curve, to the horizon. Barely had they leveled out—when
right before his eyes they slid up diagonally across the panoramic
view! Then they were gone.
"Gosh—I hardly feel anything!" Charlie
exclaimed.
Now he could see much further away—many miles south
of Parker. It was a place he knew well, and he could see it
clearly. It was Blythe, California. There was no doubt in
Charlie's mind now. He was heading out—far out, to
another world in the Timeless Sea.
Atmosphere nil
,
Sir. We are beyond their local air
sea.
"Charles," Dondee said, letting go of the
grip-safety, "we are now officially at sea."
"I sort of figured that out," Charlie said slowly.
"From the way things look down there."
Dondee laughed suddenly. "You sound so grim,
Charles!"
"It
is
grim," Charlie said,
"this
far out—at
sea."
Going over closer to the panoramic, Charlie pressed
both hands hard against the clear crystal sheet, staring silently
out into the vastness of his own world, which was rapidly changing
before his eyes. As he watched, it grew smaller, dwindling away
before him. The changing course of the great discus flagship,
noticeable only by a gentle sway as it turned at incredible speeds,
was now making the Sun's light sink swiftly down behind his world.
Then it was gone. There was only a royal blue night.
In that unforgettable moment Charlie's eyes grew
moist. His mind flashed back to Miss Tisdale's science class, and
the globe in her classroom that looked like this great shining
green ball out there now before him. He didn't cry, but something
choked up inside his throat, and he turned his face momentarily
away from Dondee. For on that mighty green ball Charlie could see
two great continents, joined by an isthmus. It was the Isthmus of
Panama, for that giant green ball was home. It was the planet
Earth.
"It is a beautiful world,
Charles.
Your
world. It is the only world island in our Solar System that
is all a beautiful
green. A beautiful world ... in the Sun's pure
light."
Charlie nodded his head slowly without
speaking.
"I wish," said the alien boy, "my own homeland had
such pure light."
Charlie suddenly realized, not only from what the
alien boy had already told him about the Barrier World, but from
his words now, that he had seldom seen sunshine at home. And then,
only once a period—a year—at the Sun Festival. And he remembered
Dondee had also told him that he had been nine years old before he
got his first chance to see pure Sun's light. A growing
understanding for what the alien boy had missed came to Charlie, as
he thought of the lavish sunshine he had always known.
"I hope, Dondee, that some day your world will have
pure sun light, too. Like mine."
"Look—Charles!" exclaimed Dondee, and Charlie
followed his gaze, as once more with the course adjustment of the
great ship his own world came brilliantly into full lighted
view.
Charlie watched with Dondee, as the green ball grew
very small, slowly disappearing from view. Then it was gone in the
blackness of the space sea—almost invisible now. Turning his gaze
out, into the far-flung bastions of eternal night, Charlie looked
through the Timeless Sea, unmarred by dimming atmosphere.
Full propulsion—take positional
course.
Charlie wondered—he thought
they
had
been
going full speed! Then somewhere, far off it seemed, Dondee's
impulse
came to him, telling him that was the commanding
Navigator again, the astronaut in charge.
Full propulsion
,
Sir. Acceleration
steady.
"We are well beyond your Earth's
gravity now," Dondee informed him. "Can't you
feel
it—the great, free-rolling void
about us!"
"Well beyond . . ." was all Charlie could say.
"Charles, whether we are just hovering, or
traveling beyond the speed of light, beyond the Radiant Barrier, it
will feel just the same."
"Nothing," Charlie said, "travels faster than
light."
"Remember, Charles,
your
science teaches
that. However, in free space, the open sea, there is no limitation
on the speed an object may travel. For example, during the first
third or possibly half of our journey, we shall steadily
accelerate. About halfway to destination, we shall stabilize at
standard speed for scheduled arrival. Then, in that speed well
beyond that of light, we shall finally start the deceleration,
before braking down to a speed suitable for entry into
port."
"But," Charlie said, "wouldn't it
be really something, to hit a moon or stray meteor at that
speed?
Then
just
where'd we be!"
"If that were possible, Charles, we would simply be
vaporized. However, that cannot happen."
"Why—what's to stop it?"
"The magno lanes, Charles. They are not faulty man-
made highways, but the safest, most natural roadways known in Time.
And they were made as part of nature."
"Why are they safest?"
"It's a scientific fact, Charles,
of my world's understanding of the cosmic laws. Those laws say no
two objects can travel or adjust to any given magno lane, while
traveling in the opposite direction. The lanes flow only one way,
that is, any particular lane. If you recall a primitive rule
governing electrical current, Charles, you will know that a current
running along a conductor, from its source, spirals
over
to the right
and
under
to the
left, as it circles the conductor. It does this as it goes towards
the direction of the conductor's extension, the direction of the
current's flow, away from the source."
"Oh yeah, I've heard of that, in a manual I read
once."
"As you may recall, Charles, the magno flux field
about the wire, I believe, revolves about the wire in the same
circular manner of the magno lanes throughout all the Timeless Sea.
In fact, the circular manner of the Universe itself is the ultimate
in design, just as the basic principle involved in the engineering
of this discus ship is the highest known to Man."
"But one of the things my world believes, Dondee,
is that in high speed out in space, there would be danger of maybe
hitting something before your eyes could focus and see it
coming."
"It is, in the more primitive
forms of travel, since such travel is largely done contrary to any
concern for adjusting to the magno lanes. I believe the primitive
term for travel, Charles, is
blast
off,
rather than to go along with the
natural course provided by nature, the most perfect of all. Under
those circumstances it would be possible to strike any
debris
in a matter of direction. Anything could happen,
and probably would!" "That same thing, the magno lanes, must keep
the worlds in their own orbits."
"Yes, Charles, and around their own magno center,
or sun, in the great system of star groups. All natural bodies in
the Timeless Sea, such as stars and planets, are protected against
such disasters. Their course is sure and delineable, as is our own
at this moment. Even known comets have a preordained course,
Charles. Halley's, for example."
"Doggone," Charlie said, "you sure know lots,
Dondee."
"Actually very little, Charles. I've only begun to
learn."
All guidons set on magno flux.
"That's the Navigator again," Charlie said,
recognizing the command impulse. "I'd know his impulse anywhere!"
"You are advanced far beyond what any of us expected, Charles. When
you were discovered, I mean."
"And you, maybe, will learn a thing or two, Dondee.
Before you're through with me, you'll be talking like an old
Arizona ranch hand, if you stick around me!"
"I 'sure' will."
"That's what I mean, Dondee. You use that 'sure'
and 'sure is' about as much as I do. Uncle John used to laugh about
how I said it so much."
"Uncle John?" queried Dondee's impulse.
"Sure. Oh—he was my father's kid brother. He was
the only one of my folk I ever knew, since Mom and Dad got killed
in an auto accident. But that was when I was knee high to a coyote,
so I never did know them."
"I'm sorry, Charles, sorry that
you do not have any— folks.
Folks-
that is for family group,
Charles?"
"Yes. That's sort of Western for how people say it.
Do you have any folks, Dondee?"
"Oh yes, Charles."
"What are they like ... if you don't mind telling
me?"
"There is Darda and Elstara, and they are my
parents. Then there is my only duplicate, Biri Biri, Charles. I
guess in your world you would call her my sister. She was born with
me."