The Edge Of Beyond, page 6
Even so, it was still a long way off, and some hours were to elapse before they had a really close view of it, one reason for this being that it was now turning away from the Solar System, having apparently reached the limit of its orbit in that direction. At least, so said Borron, after several sightings and calculations.
`That's a relief, anyway,' observed Tiger. 'If that fellow barged into the planetoids, it would, I imagine, stir them up more than somewhat.
Vargo smiled faintly. 'It would,' he agreed. 'Our whole system would vanish in a cloud of smoke,' he added, calmly.
`And no one would know anything about it,' put in Rex, pensively.
`No one — except perhaps an astronomer on a far distant world, who might notice the flash.'
Rex turned his attention to the unknown planet, some surface details of which were beginning to emerge between long thin drifts of cloud which, as the Professor observed, indicated the presence of water.
It was soon revealed that the outstanding physical feature of the planet was mountains. Range after range was piled up one behind the other as if a mighty ocean of liquid rock had been suddenly arrested at the height of a gale. What lay between these great massifs could not be seen, but there was little vegetation and so far no indications of human or animal life. The rocks themselves were as black as coal, and were, the Professor thought, basalt. The higher peaks wore snow caps. As the ship drew nearer it could be seen that the flanks of some of the mountains were streaked with dull red or orange, which Rex thought indicated volcanic origin. Otherwise the planet appeared to be colourless. Once Rex thought he caught the flash of water between two ranges; but that, he reasoned, was to be expected if there was snow on the high tops.
Taken by and large it was a horrible, gloomy-looking place, with so little to invite a landing that Rex would have been content to pass it by. Not so the Professor, however. It was clear that nothing but a close view would satisfy him.
`I think we might go down and set foot on it,' he suggested. `I see several places where we could land — not large, but large enough.'
Vargo hesitated.
`Do you see anything that suggests it would be unsafe to land?' inquired the Professor.
Vargo admitted that he could not.
`Then let us go down,' requested the Professor.
`What do you hope to see from ground level that cannot be seen from here?'
`It's because I don't know that I would like to land, assuming that atmospheric conditions make it possible,' explained the Professor, naïvely.
`You are the most inquisitive man I ever met,' asserted Vargo, in a resigned voice. But he gave the order to go down.
Tiger put in a word, speaking to the Professor. 'What you're really hoping to find is something new, something that doesn't occur elsewhere,' he guessed shrewdly.
`Perhaps,' admitted the Professor, with a twinkle in his eyes.
`Beware if you do, for always in the unknown there is danger,' said Vargo, earnestly. 'I speak from experience, and the misfortunes of others.'
The ship's solar ray jet-brakes came into action to check the fall, and when these had taken effect it began a sideways movement to bring it directly above a small plateau which Borron had presumably chosen as the best place to land. Just before it arrived in the desired position the ship gave a tremendous lurch which nearly threw them off their feet. Rex clutched at his seat for it seemed certain that the ship was out of control, and falling. But Borron acted swiftly. The power came on again. The fall was checked, and in a moment or two all was well again. Looking at their faces, Rex saw that even the crew, usually impassive, had been shaken by the incident — figuratively as well as literally.
`What was that?' exclaimed the Professor, stooping to pick up some caramels that had been jolted out of his bag.
`I don't know,' answered Vargo, frowning.
Nobody could find an explanation. The ship handles perfectly,' stated Borron, looking puzzled.
`Could it have been an air pocket?' suggested the Professor.
`No,' replied Vargo. 'No air pocket, not even a complete vacuum, could affect such a ship as this. I have never known such a thing to happen before. That can only mean that there is something here outside our experience. Do you still want to go down?'
`There is now all the more reason for us to go down,' asserted the Professor, looking at the others over his spectacles. 'How can we learn if we turn away from the things we don't understand?'
`It sounds crazy to me but have it your way,' said Tiger.
Vargo spoke again to Borron. The ship, coming in from a different direction, took up a position over the plateau. Everyone stood tense, prepared for a repetition of the 'bump' incident; but nothing happened, and presently the landing legs scraped on hard ground as the spacecraft touched down.
`Good,' said the Professor. 'It couldn't have been anything serious after all.'
Rex watched with some trepidation while the routine atmospheric and habitation tests were made. When they had been completed Vargo announced that the air outside was safe, if heavy. The presence of carbon dioxide made a long stay inadvisable, however. Gravity was rather more severe than on Mars. But ...
`But what?' asked the Professor.
`There are reactions which I do not understand. I can't identify them or locate them.'
`Could they be caused by rays of some sort?'
`They could be. There is certainly an emanation of something, but of what, and from whence it comes, I couldn't say.'
`Would you say it would be dangerous to step out?'
Vargo hesitated. 'I wouldn't go as far as that but it might be as well to take precautions.'
`What sort of precautions?'
`The varnish we use might insulate you from the emanations, or whatever it is that affects the instruments.'
`I don't like the idea of smearing myself with that beastly stuff,' objected the Professor. His eyes brightened. 'I've got it. This seems the ideal place to test my own protective armour — or what, for want of a better name, I call armour. I made only two suits. Or rather, I had them made to my design by some people who make bullet-proof vests. The first one turned out to be rather too small for me so I had to have a second one made. I have them with me.'
`Very well,' agreed Vargo. 'They may be better than nothing and they can do no harm.'
`Capital!' exclaimed the Professor. 'Rex, would you care to take a little walk with me on our mystery planet? My smaller suit would just about fit you. It would be much too small for your father or the doctor. They can watch us to see what happens.'
`Yes, I'll come,' assented Rex. 'I'd be glad to stretch my legs.'
`We shan't go far — just far enough to take samples of the rock formations,' said the Professor.
He went over to the luggage dump and presently returned with the two garments which he had aptly called suits of armour. Actually, they consisted merely of thin leather shirts over which had been sewn small, wafer-thin steel plates, so that the general effect was very much like the scales of a fish. Each shirt was fitted with a headpiece, made in the same way, the shape being that of a balaclava helmet, with yellow transparent material in front to protect the face.
The crew watched with interest while these were put on, Rex smiling through his eyepiece at the Professor who looked like a crusader who had been to the wars. The shirt was heavy, but not as heavy as he expected, as he discovered when he walked to the exit doors. But it was rather cumbersome, and he hoped he would not have to walk far in it. Privately, he thought the precaution quite unnecessary, and suspected the Professor was simply making an excuse to test them in the conditions for which they had been designed. They had managed without them so far, he mused, so the whole business was rather pointless.
`Are you ready?' inquired the Professor.
`Quite ready, Sir Lancelot. Lead on to the dragon,' answered Rex, grinning behind his eyepiece at his little joke.
The exit doors were opened. Fresh air, cold and clammy, but refreshing after the stale atmosphere inside the ship, filled Rex's lungs. The Professor stepped out; Rex followed him, to sway a little as his feet found the surface of the unknown planet.
For a little while they stood there, looking about them while they adjusted themselves to the particular conditions of a new world, one on which, Vargo was certain, no human being had ever set foot.
7 Trapped
To Rex, as he gazed around, the spectacle presented to his eyes was heart-chilling in its bleak immensity, its awful loneliness, its grim colourlessness and sullen silence, a silence so profound that it seemed to be dropping from the skies. If it conveyed a message at all it was 'Go back! You are not wanted here.'
It struck him that the place looked precisely what they had decided it was, a dead world, a world where life had never been. So this, he pondered, was what a lifeless world really looked like. Until this moment he had not realized how lifeless a world could be, how bare, how ugly. Beauty came only with life. True, he had seen one or two planetoids where, for one reason or another, life in any shape or form was manifestly impossible — the world of ice, for example. But that was different. Here was a planet which looked as if it should support a thriving population, if not of human beings at least of plants and flowers. With those there would be birds and insects. There were plenty of mountainous districts on Earth, but always there was something to make life worth living. But here there was only death. No bird sang. No insect buzzed.
Had an imaginative artist been asked to depict a world that had died in convulsions, an inferno where the fires had cooled leaving nothing but death and desolation, this was the sort of picture he might have painted. In all his travels Rex had never seen anything so hideous.
Nothing moved. Nothing. Not even the air. With the exception of a few lichens on the open ground the scene was one of sterile rock, mostly black, horrible to look at. It was rock underfoot and rock all around. Rising on all sides were the mountains, often with faces that were absolutely sheer. Between these forbidding walls, as they had noticed from above, were occasional narrow canyons or gorges, as if the mighty masses of rock had cracked as they cooled. The very atmosphere struck cold, with a bitter penetrating quality. Even so, there were colder places on Earth where life had secured a foothold. A feeling came over him that they were being watched: that the place was waiting for something to happen.
The Professor broke in on his sombre meditations. `Well, Rex, are you ready?' he asked. In the eerie silence his voice sounded strangely loud and hollow, as if he had spoken through an amplifier.
Rex caught his breath as from all sides the words were repeated in mocking echoes. WELL REX ARE YOU READY . . . ARE YOU READY . . . ready, ready.
Had anything been needed to complete the horror, this was it, thought Rex, with a shudder. He waited until the ghostly voices had subsided before he answered : `Yes, I'm ready.'
Back again came the hollow echoes, gradually diminishing. YES I'M READY ... I'M READY . . . ready ... ready.
Tut-tut,' said the Professor softly. 'How very disconcerting.'
Rex, as he had said, was ready, but he would have preferred to rejoin the others in the ship. 'This place gives me the creeps,' he muttered. He wouldn't be able to stand too much of it, he thought. It was too overpowering. Great mountains could have that effect anywhere, but here they made him feel like a worm.
`There appears to be nothing of interest here,' observed the Professor, after a comprehensive survey of the plateau. 'Let us move on a little way.'
He had dropped his voice a little, but it made no difference. The echoes merely whispered back. The effect was even worse than when he had spoken in a normal voice.
`Oh shut up,' shouted Rex, irritably.
The result, as the echoes boomed and reverberated round the cliffs, startled him. Realizing the futility of arguing with an echo he closed his lips.
`Let us go this way.' The Professor, with a curious dragging gait, moved forward, evidently making for the entrance to the nearest canyon, a gaping slit in the cliff where the outer walls were streaked with rust like the sides of a derelict iron ship.
`What are you going to do?' asked Rex, for there seemed little purpose in this, or, for that matter in the expedition at all. As he followed he discovered that he, too, was dragging his feet as if he was wearing boots too heavy for him.
`There is metal in these rocks,' answered the Professor. 'I shall be interested to see what it is, although I suspect it is merely iron. Still, there is always a chance that it may be something new. Don't worry. I'm not going far.'
Reaching the wall he stopped to examine one of the reddish streaks, rubbing it with his fingers and then looking at them closely. Apparently satisfied with his inspection he entered the canyon.
Rex followed, but not without reluctance, for anything less inviting would have been hard to imagine, if for no other reason than the bottom of the gorge was strewn with loose boulders, sometimes precariously poised one upon another, so that it would have been an easy place to break a limb. The boulders, he noticed, had a feature in common. They had no sharp edges. All were smooth and rounded, like those found in fast-flowing streams.
`These rocks seem to be water-worn,' he remarked.
`It's quite likely that they are,' answered the Professor. `Water may pour through here at certain seasons of the year.'
He stopped to examine one. He went on. 'I don't think the surfaces are smooth enough for water to have been the agent. From the scratches on them they look more as if they had been abraded by the action of sand. It is not important.'
They went on, picking their way carefully, for as the only light came from far above they had to proceed in a sort of gloomy twilight. But the Professor seemed unaware of any discomfort. Once he glanced over his shoulder and said : 'Are you all right?'
`Yes, I'm all right,' returned Rex, unwilling to admit that he was anything but happy in conditions which, to say the least, were morbidly depressing, although, to his relief, there were no echoes in the gorge.
`You're not feeling affected by any of these funny rays Vargo has spoken of?'
`I'm feeling perfectly normal, thank you,' returned Rex. Physically this was the truth.
`We'll just go as far as the bend in front of us,' decided the Professor. He chuckled. 'There's nothing as fascinating as a bend in unknown country. You never know what may be round the corner.'
Rex agreed. In his heart he was hoping that there would be nothing round the corner except more rocks. In the event he never found out what was round the corner. They never reached it.
It was shortly after this exchange of words that Rex felt, or thought he felt, an invisible force urging him towards the stark wall of cliff on the right hand side of the chasm. At first it was so slight as to be hardly perceptible, but presently it became more definite, as if unseen hands were pushing him, or rather dragging him, towards the wall. Very soon he found himself leaning away from it, as a man might lean against a gale of wind. But there was no wind. The air was absolutely still. It was a curious sensation the like of which he had never experienced. But he was not particularly worried, for after all, had there been anything to fear he would have seen it. Or so he supposed. He could only think it was some peculiar trick of gravity, particularly as the pull sometimes seemed to come from below, as well, even causing his knees to bend and making walking hard work. He didn't even mention it to the Professor, although he could see he was having the same difficulty, moving forward with his body at an angle as if he too was leaning against a wind that was not there.
The explanation came suddenly, and when it did the first thought that flashed into Rex's head was Vargo's remark about perils beyond imagination, the worse because they could not be foreseen.
They had nearly reached the bend of which the Professor had spoken when they found their way almost barred by a fall of rock. That is to say, the fall left only a narrow gap between it and the right hand wall of the cliff. This meant, of course, that in order to pass through the passage they would have to move nearer to the rock face. The Professor, who was leading, made for the opening, altering his course slightly by taking a few paces to the right. Suddenly a cry broke from his lips. He flung up his arms so that for a moment it seemed to Rex that he was fighting an unseen enemy. Rex stopped, staring, trying to make out what was really happening.
The fight, if fight it could be called, did not last long. The Professor thrust both hands against the wall and appeared to be pushing against it with all his strength. While doing this he shouted something, but in the commotion, and perhaps on account of his mask, Rex did not catch the words. The end came when the Professor's arms seemed to collapse, with the result that with a metallic clang he fell flat against the wall, his face towards it, his arms extended at full stretch. And in that position he remained. Only his legs appeared to be free, and with these he kicked violently, although to no purpose.
Rex, still having not the remotest idea of what had happened to cause the Professor to act in this extraordinary way, did what might have been expected of him in the circumstances. His brain was whirling. It was evident that the Professor was in difficulty so naturally he went to his assistance. But even before he reached him he found himself behaving exactly as the Professor had — fighting something that he could neither see nor feel. It was as if arms had reached out from the wall and were dragging him towards it. He resisted with all his might. Indeed, he fought inspired by terror, but it was no use. He found it impossible to compete with this invisible enemy. Feeling his strength failing he made a last desperate effort to break free; but it was in vain, and with a loud clang he too crashed against the wall, there to remain, fixed, rigid, no more able to move his arms than if they had been nailed to it. Only his legs were free, as he soon discovered; but they could not help him.
The only difference between his position and that of the Professor was that he faced outwards, his head, held tight, half turned towards the bend that was to have been the limit of their walk. The Professor's face was turned to the wall. In vain Rex strove to detach himself. He was as powerless to move as a stamp on a letter or a nail held by a giant magnet.
