later, all
astronauts believed, the human race would meet intelligence from elsewhere. That meeting
might still be far in the future, but meanwhile the hypothetical ‘Outsiders’ were
part of the mythology of space, and got the blame for everything that could not be
explained in any other way.
It was easy to believe in them when you were with a mere handful of companions on
some strange, hostile world where the very rocks and air (if there
was
air) were completely alien. Then nothing could be taken for granted, and the experience
of a thousand Earth-bound generations might be useless. As ancient man had peopled
the unknown around him with gods and spirits, so
Homo astronauticus
looked over his shoulder when he landed upon each new world, wondering who or what
was here already. For a few brief centuries Man had imagined himself the lord of the
universe, and those primeval hopes and fears had been buried in his subconscious.
But now they were stronger than ever, and with good reason, as he looked into the
shining face of the heavens, and thought of the power and knowledge that must be lurking
there.
“Better report to Base,” said George. “We’ve covered our area, and there’s no point
in going over it again. Not until sunrise, anyway—we’ll have a much better chance
of finding something then. This damned Earthlight gives me the creeps.”
He switched on the radio, and gave the ski’s call-sign.
“Duster Two calling Traffic Control—over.”
“Port Roris Traffic Control here. Found anything?”
“Not a trace. What’s new from your end?”
“We don’t think she’s out in the Sea. The Chief Engineer wants to speak to you.”
“Right; put him on.”
“Hello, Duster Two. Lawrence here. Plato Observatory’s just reported a quake near
the Mountains of Inaccessibility. It took place at 19.35, which is near enough the
time when
Selene
should have been in Crater Lake. They suggest she’s been caught in an avalanche somewhere
in that area. So head for the mountains and see if you can spot any recent slides
or rockfalls.”
“What’s the chance, Sir,” asked the dust-ski pilot anxiously, “that there may be more
quakes?”
“Very small, according to the Observatory. They say it will be thousands of years
before anything like this happens again, now that the stresses have been relieved.”
“I hope they’re right. I’ll radio when I get to Crater Lake; that should be in about
twenty minutes.”
But it was only fifteen minutes before Duster Two destroyed the last hopes of the
waiting listeners.
“Duster Two calling. This is it, I’m afraid. I’ve not reached Crater Lake yet—I’m
still heading up the gorge. But the Observatory was right about the quake; there have
been several slides, and we had difficulty in getting past some of them. There must
be ten thousand tons of rock in the one I’m looking at now; if
Selene
’s under that lot, we’ll never find her. And it won’t be worth the trouble of looking.”
The silence in Traffic Control lasted so long that the ski called back: “Hello, Base—did
you receive me?”
“Receiving you,” said the Chief Engineer in a tired voice. “See if you can find
some
trace of them; I’ll send Duster One in to help. Are you sure there’s no chance of
digging them out?”
“It might take weeks, even if we could locate them. I saw one slide three hundred
metres long. If you tried to dig, the rock would probably start moving again.”
“Be very careful. Report every fifteen minutes, whether you find anything or not.”
Lawrence turned away from the microphone, physically and mentally exhausted. There
was nothing more that he could do—or, he suspected, that anyone could do. Trying to
compose his thoughts, he walked over to the southwards-facing observation window,
and stared into the face of the crescent Earth.
It was hard to believe that she was fixed there in the southern
astronauts believed, the human race would meet intelligence from elsewhere. That meeting
might still be far in the future, but meanwhile the hypothetical ‘Outsiders’ were
part of the mythology of space, and got the blame for everything that could not be
explained in any other way.
It was easy to believe in them when you were with a mere handful of companions on
some strange, hostile world where the very rocks and air (if there
was
air) were completely alien. Then nothing could be taken for granted, and the experience
of a thousand Earth-bound generations might be useless. As ancient man had peopled
the unknown around him with gods and spirits, so
Homo astronauticus
looked over his shoulder when he landed upon each new world, wondering who or what
was here already. For a few brief centuries Man had imagined himself the lord of the
universe, and those primeval hopes and fears had been buried in his subconscious.
But now they were stronger than ever, and with good reason, as he looked into the
shining face of the heavens, and thought of the power and knowledge that must be lurking
there.
“Better report to Base,” said George. “We’ve covered our area, and there’s no point
in going over it again. Not until sunrise, anyway—we’ll have a much better chance
of finding something then. This damned Earthlight gives me the creeps.”
He switched on the radio, and gave the ski’s call-sign.
“Duster Two calling Traffic Control—over.”
“Port Roris Traffic Control here. Found anything?”
“Not a trace. What’s new from your end?”
“We don’t think she’s out in the Sea. The Chief Engineer wants to speak to you.”
“Right; put him on.”
“Hello, Duster Two. Lawrence here. Plato Observatory’s just reported a quake near
the Mountains of Inaccessibility. It took place at 19.35, which is near enough the
time when
Selene
should have been in Crater Lake. They suggest she’s been caught in an avalanche somewhere
in that area. So head for the mountains and see if you can spot any recent slides
or rockfalls.”
“What’s the chance, Sir,” asked the dust-ski pilot anxiously, “that there may be more
quakes?”
“Very small, according to the Observatory. They say it will be thousands of years
before anything like this happens again, now that the stresses have been relieved.”
“I hope they’re right. I’ll radio when I get to Crater Lake; that should be in about
twenty minutes.”
But it was only fifteen minutes before Duster Two destroyed the last hopes of the
waiting listeners.
“Duster Two calling. This is it, I’m afraid. I’ve not reached Crater Lake yet—I’m
still heading up the gorge. But the Observatory was right about the quake; there have
been several slides, and we had difficulty in getting past some of them. There must
be ten thousand tons of rock in the one I’m looking at now; if
Selene
’s under that lot, we’ll never find her. And it won’t be worth the trouble of looking.”
The silence in Traffic Control lasted so long that the ski called back: “Hello, Base—did
you receive me?”
“Receiving you,” said the Chief Engineer in a tired voice. “See if you can find
some
trace of them; I’ll send Duster One in to help. Are you sure there’s no chance of
digging them out?”
“It might take weeks, even if we could locate them. I saw one slide three hundred
metres long. If you tried to dig, the rock would probably start moving again.”
“Be very careful. Report every fifteen minutes, whether you find anything or not.”
Lawrence turned away from the microphone, physically and mentally exhausted. There
was nothing more that he could do—or, he suspected, that anyone could do. Trying to
compose his thoughts, he walked over to the southwards-facing observation window,
and stared into the face of the crescent Earth.
It was hard to believe that she was fixed there in the southern
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