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so small and travels so fast. But it seems to be made of homogeneous metal." -
"Iron?"
"Smooth metal, Marion. Not pitted and rough, as an asteroid would be. It's
made of pure gold, or some yellow metal that resembles gold." .i
The girl looked sharply at Court.
- "A space ship?"
"Possibly. But why wouldn't it come down, if it is a ship? Has it been
efrc]ing the Earth for ages?"
"But where could it have come from?"
"Some ancient civilization might have mastered space travel, though I doubt
that. If it is a space ship, it probably came from some other planet."
"There's nothing in history about it," Marion said. "If one space ship could
come here, probably so would a lot more."
'Nothing in history? No, but there's a lot in mythology and folklore. I'm just
guessing, of course. I'm anxious to find out more about that highly unnatural
satellite."
She was silent, fascinated by the thought.
"How can you reach it?" she asked.
"It looks impossible," he admitted. "Space ~travel is impos
sible to us today. That's one reason-You see, Marion, if it really is a space
ship, -it may mean Earth's salvation. To be completely rational, we must
consider that perhaps the plague can't be conquered. If it is a space ship, we
may be able to leave the Earth and go to another planet. If those worlds are
also in danger, we could leave the System. -
"We couldn't do that with modern rocket fuels. Suppose that strangely colored
satellite is a genuine space ship, one that has already traveled across the
interstellar void. Repairing it would be less work than inventing one."
"It's worth trying," Marion breathed hopefully.
"I may fail. That's why t~want to find out more about X. The space ship's a
dangerously long chance, and I don't want to gamble everything on one throw of
the dice. When I see Locicault-"
Time wore on. Sammy asked innumerable questions about the plague, but when he
exhausted his curiosity, he went to sleep. The plane sped over the Border and
into Canada.
It was afternoon before they reached the landing field. An automobile met them
and took them into town, another following with Sammy and the equipment. At
the hospital they were greeted by Doctor Granger, a shriveled gnome of -a man
with one tuft of white hair standing straight up from his bald skull.
"Court!" he said in relief. "Am I glad you're here! Are you hungry?"
"No." Characteristically Court did not bother to introduce anyone. "Where's
the patient?"
"In the left wing of the hospital. We've cleared out everyone else. You'll
have to put - on the lead suit. We have only one, unfortunately."
Court seemed transformed into a swift, emotionless machine. He hastily donned
the form-fitting suit of canvas, with leaden scales sewed closely over the
surface. As he followed Granger to the door, the physician paused. -
"I'd better not go farther. I don't know exactly how far the radiation
extends. It wilts gold-leaf at quite some distance."
Court nodded, got his directions, and clumped ponderously out the door. He
went along the corridor until he found the patient's room. Any other man would
have hesitated before entering, but Court was not like any other man. Without
stopping, he pushed open the door.
The bare, white-walled chamber was spotlessly sterile. A case of instrütuents
lay open on a table, a hypodermic needle in view. On the bed a man was
sprawled. -
Peering through lead-inifitrated goggles, Court came closer. Locicault was
unconscious. No, he was asleep. His spare, wasted frame was barely fleshy
enough to make a visible shape under the coverlets. On the pillow lay the
withered, skull-face of an incredibly old man.
Locicault was twenty-three years of age.
His mouth was toothless. Hanging open helplessly, it revealed his ugly,
blackened gums. His skull was hairless, with ears that were large and
malformed, and his nose, too, was enlarged. The repulsive skin dangled in
loose, sagging wrinides. Pouches hung slack on his naked skull.
Court went to the window and drew down the shades. In the gloom a queer,
silvery light was visible at once. It came from the patient's face!
Court stripped off the covers, exposing Locicault's gaunt, nude body. Like the
ghastly face, it gleamed with a silvery radiance that did not pulse or wane,
but remained steady.
"Locicault," Court called out sharply.
- When he gripped the thin shoulder, the man shuddered convulsively and his
eyes opened.
They were not human eyes. They were pools of white radiance, like shining
smoke in eye-sockets.
"Locicault, can you hear me?" Court asked quietly.
A cracked whisper came~'from the withered lips.
"Yes. . . . Yes, m'sieu."
"Can you see me?"
"I can-No, m'sieu, not with my eyes. I am blind-but I can see you, somehow-"
Court frowned, puzzled, as he pondered the weird reply.
"What do you see?"
"You are covered with-armor, I think. I do not know how I can tell this. I am
blind. . . ."
"I am a doctor,". Court said. "If you can talk without pain, I want you to
answer some questions."
"Oul, m'sieu. Bien."
"Are you in pain?"
"No-Yes. I am hungry. It is strange. I am hungry and thirsty, but I do not
want food, Something I do not understand-"
Court waited for him to continue. When Locicault did not, he went on with
another line of reasoning.
"Tell me about this fog." -
"There is not much to tell," Locicault said painfully. "When I left my home, I
could not find my way. The fog was so
heavy-and its smell was not right." --
Stephen's eyes sparkled with interest under the thick mask.
"How did it smell? What did it remind you of?"
"I don't know. Wait! Once I was in the big power-house at the dam, and it
smelled like that-"
Ozone? Court shook his head.
"Well?" he urged. -
"The fog was - cold at first, and then it seemed to grow -warmer. I had the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]