It was as if someone had thrown a bomb into a
Quaker meeting, when adventure suddenly began to crowd itself into the life of
the studious and methodical Leslie Larner, professor of entomology.
Fame had been his
since early manhood, when he began to distinguish himself in several sciences,
but the adventure and thrills he had longed for had always fallen to the lot of
others.
His father, a
college professor, had left him a good working brain and nothing else. Later
his mother died and he was left with no relatives in the world, so far as he
knew. So he gave his life over to study and hard work.
Still youthful at
twenty-five, he was hoping that fate would "give him a break." It
did.
He was in charge
of a Government department having to do with Oriental beetles, Hessian flies,
boll weevils and such, and it seemed his life had been just one bug after
another. He took creeping, crawling things seriously and believed that, unless
curbed, insects would some day crowd man off the earth. He sounded an alarm,
but humanity was not disturbed. So Leslie Larner fell back on his microscope
and concerned himself with saving cotton, wheat and other crops. His only
diversion was fishing for the elusive rainbow trout.
He managed to
spend a month each year in the Colorado Rockies angling for speckled beauties.
Larner was
anything but a clock-watcher, but on a certain bright day in June he was seated
in his laboratory doing just that.
"Just five
minutes to go," he mused.
It was just 4:25
P. M. He had finished his work, put his affairs in order, and in five minutes
would be free to leave on a much needed and well earned vacation. His bags were
packed and at the station. His fishing tackle, the pride of his young life, was
neatly rolled in oiled silk and stood near at hand.
"I'll just
fill my calabash, take one more quiet smoke, and then for the mountains and
freedom," he told himself. He settled back with his feet on his desk. He
half closed his eyes in solid comfort. Then the bomb fell and exploded.
B-r-r-r-r!
The buzzer on his
desk buzzed and his feet came off the desk and hit the floor with a thud. His
eyes popped open and the calabash was immediately laid aside.
That buzzer
usually meant business, and it would be his usual luck to have trouble crash in
on him just as he was on the edge of a rainbow trout paradise.
A messenger was
ushered into the room by an assistant. The boy handed him an envelope, said,
"No answer," and departed.
Larner tore open
the envelope lazily. He read and then re-read its contents, while a look of
puzzled surprise disturbed his usually placid countenance. He spread the sheet
of paper out on his desk, and for the tenth time he read:
Confidential.
Memorize this address and destroy this
paper:
Tula Bela, 1726 88th Street, West, City of
Hesper, Republic of Pana, Planet Venus.
Will meet you in the Frying Pan.
That was all. It was enough. Larner lost his
temper. He crumpled the paper and tossed it in the waste basket. He was not
given to profanity, but he could say "Judas Priest" in a way that
sizzled.
"Judas
Priest!" he spluttered. "Anyone who would send a man a crazy bunch of
nonsense like that, at a time like this, ought to be snuffed out like a beetle!
"'Meet you
in the Frying Pan,'" he quoted. Then he happened to recall something.
"By golly, there is a fishing district in Colorado known as the Frying
Pan. That's not so crazy, but the planet Venus part surely is cuckoo."
He fished the
paper out of the waste basket, found the envelope, placed the strange message
within and put it in his inside coat pocket. Then he seized his suitcase and
fishing tackle, and, rushing out, hailed a taxi. Not long after he was on his
way west by plane.
As the country
unrolled under him he retrieved the strange note from his pocket. He read it
again and again. Then he examined the envelope. It was an ordinary one of good
quality, designed for business rather than social usage. The note paper
appeared quite different. It was unruled, pure white, and of a texture which
might be described as pebbly. It was strongly made, and of a nature unlike any
paper Larner had ever seen before. It appeared to have been made from a fiber
rather than a pulp.
"Wonder who
wrote it?" Larner asked himself. "It is beautiful handwriting,
masculine yet artistic. Wonder where he got the Frying Pan idea? At any rate,
I'm not going to the Frying Pan this year—I'm camping on Tennessee Creek, in
Lake County, Colorado. The country there is more beautiful and restful.
"But this
street address on the planet Venus. Seems to me I read somewhere that Marconi
had received mysterious signals that he believed came from the planet Venus.
Hesper, Hesper... it sounds familiar, somehow. Wonder if there could be
anything to it?"
Something
impelled him to follow out the instructions in the note. He spent the next few
hours repeating the address over and over again. When he was satisfied that he
had memorized it thoroughly, he tore the strange paper into bits and sent it
fluttering earthward like a tiny snowstorm.
Larner was not a
gullible individual, but neither was he unimaginative. He was scientist enough
to know that "the impossibilities of to-day are the accomplishments of
to-morrow." So while not convinced that the note was a serious
communication, still his mind was open.
The weird address
insisted on creeping into his mind and driving out other thoughts, even those
of his speckled playfellows, the rainbow trout.
"I've a
notion to change my plans and go from Denver to the Frying Pan," he
cogitated. Then he thought, "No, I won't take it that seriously."
Anyone who knows
the Colorado Rockies knows paradise. There is no more beautiful country on the
globe. Lake County, where Larner had chosen his fishing grounds, has as its seat
the old mining camp of Leadville. It has been visited and settled more for its
gold mines than the golden glow of its sunsets above the clouds, but the gold
of the sunsets is eternal, while the gold of the mines is fading quickly away.
Leadville, with its
5,000 inhabitants, nestles above the clouds, at an altitude of more than 10,000
feet. Mount Massive with its three peaks lies back of the town in panorama and
rises to a height of some 14,400 feet. In the rugged mountains thereabouts are
hundreds of lakes fed by wild streams and bubbling crystal springs. All these
lakes are above the clouds.
Winter sees the
whole picture decorated with bizarre snowdrifts from twenty to forty feet deep,
but spring comes early. The beautiful columbines and crocuses bloom before the
snow is all off the ground in the valleys. The lands up to 12,000 feet altitude
are carpeted with a light green grass and moss. Giant pines and dainty aspens,
with their silvery bark and pinkish leaves blossom forth and whisper, while the
eternal snows still linger in the higher rocky cliffs and peaks above.
Indian-paint
blooms its blood red in contrast to the milder colorings. Blackbirds and
bluebirds chatter and chipmunks chirp. The gold so hard to find in the mines
glares from the skies. The hills cuddle in banks of snowy clouds, and above all
a pure clear blue sky sweeps. The lakes and streams abound with rainbow trout,
the gamest of any fresh water fish. It is indeed a paradise for either poet or
sportsman.
In any direction
near to Leadville a man can find Heaven and recreation and rest.
Finding himself
on Harrison Avenue, the main street of the county seat, Larner, after renewing
some old acquaintanceships, started west in a flivver for Tennessee Creek. The
flivver is a modern adjustment. Until a few years ago the only means of
traversing these same hills was by patient, sure-footed donkeys, which carried
the pack while the wayfarer walked along beside.
The first day's
fishing was good. Trout seemed to greet him cheerily and sprang eagerly to the
fray. They bit at any sort of silken fly he cast.
The site chosen
by Larner for his camp was in a mossy clearing separated from the stream by a
fringe of willows along the creek. Then came a border of aspens backed by a
forest of silver-tipped firs.
It was ideal and
his eyes swept the scene with satisfaction. Then he began whittling bacon to
grease his pan for frying trout over the open fire.
Suddenly he heard
a rustle in the aspens, and, looking up, beheld a picture which made his eyes
bulge. A man and a woman, garbed seemingly in the costumes of another world,
walked toward him. Neither were more than five feet tall but were physically
perfect, and marvelously pleasing to the eye. There was little difference in
their dress.
Both wore helmets
studded with what Larner believed to be sapphires. He learned later they were
diamonds. Their clothing consisted of tight trouserlike garments surmounted by
tunics of some white pelt resembling chamois save for color. A belt studded with
precious stones encircled their waists. Artistic laced sandals graced their
small firm feet.
Their skin was a
pinkish white. Their every feature was perfection plus, and their bodies curved
just enough wherever a curve should be. The woman was daintier and more fully
developed, and her features were even more finely chiseled than the man.
Otherwise it would have been difficult to distinguish their sex.
Larner took in
these details subconsciously, for he was awed beyond expression. All he could
do was to stand seemingly frozen, half bent over the campfire with his frying
pan in his hand.
The man spoke.
"I hope we
did not startle you," he said. "I thought my note would partly
prepare you for this meeting. We expected to find you in the Frying Pan
district. When you did not appear there we tuned our radio locator to your
heart beats and in that way located you here. It was hardly a second's
space-flying time from where we were."
Larner said
nothing. He could only stand and gape.
"I do not
wonder that you are surprised," said the strange little man. "I will
explain that I am Nern Bela, of the City of Hesper, on the planet Venus. This
is my sister Tula. We greet you in the interest of the Republic of Pana, which
embraces all of the planet you know as Venus."
When Larner
recovered his breath, he lost his temper.
"I don't
know what circus you escaped from, but I crave solitude and I have no time to
be bothered with fairy tales," he said with brutal bruskness.
Expressions of
hurt surprise swept the countenances of his visitors.
The man spoke again:
"We are just
what we assert we are, and our finding you was made necessary by a condition
which grieves the souls of all the 900,000,000 inhabitants of Venus. We have
come to plead with you to come with us and use your scientific knowledge to
thwart a scourge which threatens the lives of millions of people."
There was a quiet
dignity about the man and an air of pride about the woman which made Larner
stop and think, or try to. He rubbed his hand over his brow and looked
questioningly at the pair.
"If you are
what you say you are, how did you get here?" he asked.
"We came in
a targo, a space-flying ship, capable of doing 426,000 miles an hour. This is
just 1200 times as fast as 355 miles an hour, the highest speed known on earth.
Come with us and we will show you our ship." They looked at him
appealingly, and both smiled a smile of wistful friendliness.
Larner, without a
word, threw down his frying pan and followed them through the aspens. The
brother and sister walking ahead of him gave his eyes a treat. He surveyed the
perfect form of the girl. Her perfection was beyond his ken.
"They
certainly are not of this world," he mused.
A few hundred
yards farther on there was a beach of pebbles, where the stream had changed its
course. On this plot sat a gigantic spherical machine of a glasslike material.
It was about 300 feet in diameter and it was tapered on two sides into tees
which Larner rightly took to be lights.
"This is a
targo, our type of space-flyer," said Nern Bela. "It is capable of
making two trips a year between Venus and the earth. We have visited this
planet often, always landing in some mountain or jungle fastness as heretofore
we did not desire earth-dwellers to know of our presence."
"Why
not?" asked Larner, his mouth agape and his eyes protruding. His mind was
so full of questions that he fairly blurted his first one.
"Because,"
said Bela, slowly and frankly, "because our race knows no sickness and we
feared contagion, as your race has not yet learned to control its being."
"Oh,"
said Lamer thoughtfully. He realized that humans of the earth, whom he had
always regarded as God's most perfect beings, were not so perfect after all.
"How do you
people control your being, as you express it?" he asked.
"It is
simple," was the reply. "For ninety centuries we have ceased to breed
imperfection, crime and disease. We deprived no one of the pleasures of life,
but only the most perfect mental and physical specimens of our people cared to
have children. In other words, while we make no claim to controlling our sex
habits, we do control results."
"Oh,"
said Larner again.
Nern Bela led the
way to a door which opened into the side of the space-flyer near its base.
"We have a crew of four men and four women," he said. "They
handle the entire ship, with my sister and I in command, making six souls
aboard in all."
"Why men and
women?" thought Larner.
As if in answer
to his thought Bela said:
"On the
earth the two sexes have struggled for sex supremacy. This has thrown your
civilization out of balance. On Venus we have struggled for sex equality and
have accomplished it. This is a perfect balance. Man and women engage in all
endeavor and share all favors and rewards alike."
"In war,
too?" asked Larner.
"There has
not been war on Venus for 600,000 years," said Bela. "There is only
the one nation, and the people all live in perfect accord. Our only trouble in
centuries is a dire peril which now threatens our people, and it is of this
that I wish to talk to you more at length."
They were
standing close to the targo. Larner was struck by the peculiar material of
which it was constructed. There was a question in his eyes, and Nern Bela
answered it:
"The metal
is duranium; it is metalized quartz. It is frictionless, conducts no current or
ray except repulsion and attraction ray NTR69X6 by which it is propelled. It is
practically transparent, lighter than air and harder than a diamond. It is cast
in moulds after being melted or, rather, fused.
"We use cold
light which we produce by forcing oxygen through air tubes into a vat filled
with the fat of a deep sea fish resembling your whale. You are aware, of
course, that that is exactly how cold light is produced by the firefly, except
for the fact that the firefly uses his own fat."
Larner was
positively fascinated. He smoothed the metal of the targo in appreciation of
its marvelous construction, but he longed most to see the curious light giving
mechanism, for this was closer to his own line of entomology. He had always
believed that the light giving organs of fireflys and deep-sea fishes could be
reproduced mechanically.
The interior of
the ship resembled in a vague way that of an ocean liner. It was controlled by
an instrument board at which a man and a girl sat. They did not raise their
heads as the three people entered.
When called by
Bela and his sister, who seemed to give commands in unison, the crew assembled
and were presented to the visitor.
"Earth-dwellers
are not the curiosity to us that we seem to be to you," said Tula Bela,
speaking for the first time and smiling sweetly.
Larner was too
engrossed to note the remark further than to nod his head. He was lost in
contemplation of these strange people, all garbed exactly alike and all
surpassingly lovely to look upon.
An odor of food
wafted from the galley, and Larner remembered he was hungry, with the hunger of
health. He had swung his basket of fish over his shoulder when he left his
campfire, and Tula took it from him.
"Would you
like to have our chef prepare them for you?" she said, as she caught his
hungry glance at his day's catch. This time Larner answered her.
"If you will
pardon me," he said awkwardly. "Really I am famished."
"You will
not miss your fish dinner," said the girl.
"I believe there
is enough for all of us," said Larner. "I caught twenty beauties. I
never knew fish to bite like that. Why, they—" and he was off on a
voluminous discourse on a favorite subject.
Those assembled
listened sympathetically. Then Tula took the fish, and soon the aroma of
broiling trout mingled with the other entrancing galley odors.
After a dinner at
which some weird yet satisfying viands were served and much unusual
conversation indulged in, Nern Bela led the way to what appeared to be the
captain's quarters. The crew and their visitor sat down to discuss a subject
which proved to be of such a terrifying nature as to scar human souls.
"People on
Venus," said Nern, as his eyes took on a worried expression, "are
unable to leave their homes after nightfall due to some strange nocturnal beast
which attacks them and vampirishly drains all blood from their veins, leaving
the dead bodies limp and empty."
"What?
How?" questioned Larner leaning far forward over the conference table.
The others nodded
their heads, and in the eyes of the women there was terror. Larner could not
but believe this.
"The beasts,
or should I say insects, are as large as your horses and they fly, actually
fly, by night, striking down humans, domestic animals and all creatures of warm
blood. How many there are we have no means of knowing, and we cannot find their
hiding and breeding places. They are not native to our planet, and where they
come from we cannot imagine. They are actually monstrous flys, or bugs, or some
form of insects."
Larner was
overcome by incredulity and showed it. "Insects as big as horses?" he
questioned and he could hardly suppress a smile.
"Believe us,
in the name of the God of us all," insisted Nern. "They have a mouth
which consists of a large suction disk, in the center of which is a lancelike
tongue. The lance is forced into the body at any convenient point, and the
suction disk drains out the blood. If we only knew their source! They attack
young children and the aged, up to five hundred years, alike."
"What! Five
hundred years?" exploded Larner again.
"I should
have explained," said Nern, simply, "that Venus dwellers, due to our
advanced knowledge of sanitation and health conversation, live about 800 years
and then die invariably of old age. The only unnatural cause of death
encountered is this giant insect. Accidents do occur, but they are rare. There
are no deliberate killings on Venus."
Larner did not
answer. He only pondered. The more he ran over the strange happenings of the
last week in his mind the more he believed he was dreaming. His thoughts took a
strange turn: "Why do these vain people go around dressed in jeweled
ornaments?"
Nern again
anticipated a question. "Diamonds, gold and many of what you call precious
stones are common on Venus," he volunteered. "Talc and many other
things are more valuable."
"Talc?"
"Yes, we use
an immense quantity of it. We have a wood that is harder than your steel. We
build machinery with it. We cannot use oil to lubricate these wooden shafts and
bearings as it softens the wood, so all parts exposed to friction are sprayed
constantly by a gust of talc from a blower.
"You use
talc mostly for toilet purposes. We use it for various purposes. There is
little left on Venus, and it is more valuable to us than either gold or
diamonds. We draw on your planet now for talc. You dump immense quantities. We
just shipped one hundred 1,000-ton globes of it from the Cripple Creek
district, and the district never missed it. We drew most of it from your mine
dumps."
Nern tried not to
look bored as he explained more in detail: "We brought 100 hollow spheres
constructed of duranium. We suspended these over the Cripple Creek district at
an altitude of 10,000 feet above the earth's surface. Because of the crystal
glint of duranium they were invisible to earth dwellers at that height. Then we
used a suction draft at night, drawing the talc from the earth, filling one
drum after another. This is done by tuning in a certain selective attraction
that attracts only talc. It draws it right out of your ground in tiny particles
and assembles it in the transportation drums as pure talc. On the earth, if
noticed at all, it would have been called a dust storm.
"The drums,
when loaded with talc, are set to attract the proper planetary force and they
go speeding toward Venus at the rate of 426,000 miles an hour. They are
prevented from colliding with meteors by an automatic magnetic device. This is
controlled by magnetic force alone, and when the targo gets too close to a
meteor it changes its course instantly. The passenger targo we ride in acts
similarly. And now may I return to the subject of the vampires of Venus?"
"Pardon my
ignorance," said Larner, and for the first time in his life he felt very
ignorant indeed.
"I know
little more than I have told you," said Nern, rather hopelessly. "Our
knowledge of your world, your people and your language comes from our listening
in on you and observing you without being observed or heard. This might seem
like taking an advantage of you, were it not for the fact that we respect
confidences, and subjugate all else to science. We have helped you at times, by
telepathically suggesting ideas to your thinkers.
"We would
have given you all our inventions in this way, gladly, but in many instances we
were unable to find minds attuned to accept such advanced ideas. We have had
the advantage of you because our planet is so many millions of years older than
your own." There was a plaintive note in Nern's voice as he talked.
"But now we
are on our knees to you, so to speak. We do not know everything and,
desperately, we need the aid of a man of your caliber. In behalf of the
distraught people of Venus, I am asking you bluntly to make a great sacrifice.
Will you face the dangers of a trip to Venus and use your knowledge to aid us
in exterminating these creatures of hell?" There was positive pleading in
his voice, and in the eyes of his beautiful sister there were tears.
"But what
would my superiors in the Government Bureau think?" feebly protested
Larner, "I could not explain...."
"You have no
superiors in your line. Our Government needs you at this time more than any earthly
government. Your place here is a fixture. You can always return to it, should
you live. We are asking you to face a horrible death with us. You can name your
own compensation, but I know you are not interested so much in reward.
"Now,
honestly, my good professor, there is no advantage to be gained by explanation.
Just disappear. In the name of God and in the interests of science and the
salvation of a people who are at your mercy, just drop out of sight. Drop out
of life on this planet. Come with us. The cause is worthy of the man I believe
you to be."
"I will
go," said Larner, and his hosts waited for no more. An instant later the
targo shot out into interstellar space.
"How do you
know what course to follow?" asked Larner after a reasonable time, when he
had recovered from his surprise at the sudden take-off.
"We do not
need to know. Our machine is tuned to be attracted by the planetary force of
Venus alone. We could not go elsewhere. A repulsion ray finds us as we near
Venus and protects us against too violent a landing. We will land on Venus like
a feather about three months from to-night."
The time of the
journey through outer space was of little moment save for one incident. Larner
and the other travelers were suddenly and rather rudely jostled about the
rapidly flying craft.
Larner lost his
breath but not his speech. "What happened?" he inquired.
"We just
automatically dodged a meteor," explained Nern.
Most of the time
of the trip was spent by Larner in listening to explanations of customs and
traditions of the people of the brightest planet in the universe.
There was a
question Larner had desired to ask Nern Bela, yet he hesitated to do so.
Finally one evening during the journey to Venus, when the travelers had been
occupying themselves in a scientific discussion of comparative evolution on the
two planets, Larner saw his opportunity.
"Why,"
he asked rather hesitatingly, "did the people of Venus always remain so
small? Why did you not strive more for height? The Japanese, who are the
shortest in stature of earth people, always wanted to be tall."
"Without
meaning any offense," replied Nern, "I must say that it is
characteristic of earth dwellers to want something without knowing any good
reason why they want it. It is perfectly all right for you people to be tall,
but for us it is not so fitting. You see, Venus is smaller than the earth. Size
is comparative. You think we are not tall because you are used to taller
people. Comparatively we are tall enough. In proportion to the size of our
planet we are exactly the right size. We keep our population at 900,000,000,
and that is the perfectly exact number of people who can live comfortably on
our planet."
Arriving on
Venus, Larner was assigned a laboratory and office in one of the Government
buildings. It was a world seemingly made of glass. Quartz, of rose, white and
crystal coloring, Larner found, was the commonest country rock of the planet.
In many cases it was shot full of splinters of gold which the natives had not
taken the trouble to recover. This quartz was of a terrific hardness and was
used in building, paving, and public works generally. The effect was
bewildering. It was a world of shimmering crystal.
The atmosphere of
Venus had long puzzled Larner. While not an astronomer in the largest sense of
the word, yet he had a keen interest in the heavens as a giant puzzle picture,
and he had given some spare time to the study.
He knew that from
all indications Venus had a most unusual atmosphere. He had read that the
atmosphere was considerably denser than that of the earth, and that its
presence made observation difficult. The actual surface of the planet he knew
could hardly be seen due, either to this atmosphere, or seemingly perpetual
cloud banks.
He had read that
the presence of atmosphere surrounding Venus is indicated to earthly
astronomers, during the planet's transit, by rings of light due to the
reflection and scattering of collected sunlight by its atmosphere.
Astronomers on
earth, he knew, had long been satisfied of the presence of great cloud banks,
as rocks and soils could not have such high reflecting power. He knew that like
the moon, Venus, when viewed from the earth, presents different phases from the
crescent to the full or total stage.
Looking up at the
sky from the quartz streets of Venus, Larner beheld, in sweeping grandeur,
massed cloud banks, many of them apparently rain clouds.
Nern noted his
skyward gaze, and said:
"We have
accomplished meteorological control. Those clouds were brought under control
when we conquered interplanetary force, and what you call gravity. We form them
and move them at will. They are our rain factory. We make rain when and where
we will. This insures our crops and makes for health and contentment.
"The air,
you will note, is about the same or a little more moist than the earth air at
sea level. This is due to the planet's position nearer the sun.
"We have
been striving for centuries to make the air a little drier and more rare, but
we have not succeeded yet. The heavy content of disintegrated quartz in our
soil makes moisture very necessary for our crops, so our moist atmosphere is
evidently a provision of providence. We are used to breathing this moist air,
and when I first visited the earth I was made uncomfortable by your rarified
atmosphere. Now I can adjust myself to breathing the air of either planet.
However, I find myself drinking a great deal more water on earth than on
Venus."
In this fairyland
which had enjoyed centuries of peace, health and accord, stark terror now
reigned. In some instances the finely-bred, marvellously intelligent people
were in a mental condition bordering on madness.
This was
especially true in the farming districts, where whole herds of lats had been
wiped out. Lats, Larner gleaned, were a common farm animal similar to the
bovine species on earth, only more wooly. On these creatures the Venus dwellers
depended for their milk and dairy supplies, and for their warmer clothing,
which was made from the skin. The hair was used for brushes, in the building
trades, and a thousand ways in manufacturing.
Besides the
domestic animals hundreds of people continued to meet death, and only a few of
the flying vampires had been hunted down. The giant insects were believed to
breed slowly as compared to earth insects, their females producing not more
than ten eggs, by estimate, after which death overtook the adult. In spite of this
they were reported to be increasing.
In the Government
building Larner was placed in touch with all the Government scientists of
Venus. His nearest collaborator was one Zorn Zada, most profound scientist of
the planet. The two men, with a score of assistants, worked elbow to elbow on
the most gigantic scientific mystery in the history of two planets.
A specimen of the
dread invader was mounted and studied by the scientists, who were so engrossed
in their work that they hardly took time to eat. As for sleep, there was little
of it. Days were spent in research and nights in hunting the monsters. This
hunting was done by newly recruited soldiers and scientists. The weapons used
were a short ray-gun of high destructive power which disintegrated the bodies of
the enemies by atomic energy blasts. The quarry was wary, however, and struck
at isolated individuals rather than massed fighting lines.
Seated at his
work-bench Larner asked Zorn Zada what had become of Nern Bela. In his heart he
had a horrible lurking fear that the beautiful Tula Bela might fall before a
swarm of the strange vampires, but he did not voice this anxiety.
"Nern and
his sister are explorers and navigators," was the reply. "They have
been assigned to carry you anywhere on this or any other planet where your work
may engage you. They await your orders. They are too valuable as
space-navigators to be placed in harm's way."
Breathing a sigh
of relief, Larner bent to his labors.
"What other
wild animals or harmful insects have you on this planet?" he asked Zorn.
"I get your
thought," replied the first scientist of Venus. "You are seeking a
natural enemy to this deadly flying menace, are you not?"
"Yes,"
admitted Larner.
"All insects
left on Venus with this one exception are beneficial," said Zorn.
"There are no wild animals, and no harmful insects. All animals, insects
and birds have been domesticated and are fed by their keepers. We get fabrics
from forms of what you call spiders and other web-builders and cocoon spinners.
All forms of birds, beasts and crawling and flying things have been brought
under the dominion of man. We will have to seek another way out than by finding
an enemy parasite."
"Where do
you think these insect invaders came from?" asked Larner.
"You have
noticed they are unlike anything you have on earth in anatomical
construction," said the savant. "They partake of the general features
of Coleoptera (beetles), in that they wear a sheath of armor, yet their mouth
parts are more on the order of the Diptera (flys). I regard them more as a fly
than a beetle, because most Coleoptera are helpful to humanity while
practically all, if not all, Diptera are malignant.
"As to their
original habitat, I believe they migrated here from some other planet."
"They could
not fly through space," said Larner.
"No, that is
the mystery of it," agreed Zorn. "How they got here and where they
breed are the questions that we have to answer."
Long days passed
on Venus. Long days and sleepless nights. The big insects were hunted nightly
by men armed with ray-guns, and nightly the blood-sucking monsters took their
toll of humanity and animals.
Finally Larner
and Zorn determined to capture one of the insects alive, muzzle its lance and
suction pad, and give it sufficient freedom to find its way back to its hiding
place. By following the shackled monster the scientists hoped to find the
breeding grounds.
All the provinces
of the planet joined in the drive. Men turned out in automatic vehicles,
propelled by energy gathered from the atmosphere. They came on foot and in
aircraft. Mobilization was at given points and, leading the van, were Zorn and
Larner and their confreres in the targo of Nern and Tula Bela. The great army
of Venus carried giant searchlights and was armed with deadly ray-guns.
Headquarters of
the vast Army of Offense was in the targo of the Belas. Larner was in supreme
command. Just before the big army set out to scour the planet to seek the
breeding place of the monsters Larner issued a bulletin that set all Venus by
the ears.
Addressed to
President Vole Vesta of the Republic of Pana and the good people of Venus, it
read:
As is generally
known, it has been the habit of the nation's space-flying merchantmen to visit
the sunlit side of the planet Mercury to obtain certain rare woods and other
materials not found on this planet.
One side of
Mercury, as is known, is always turned from the sun and is in a condition of
perpetual night. In this perpetual darkness and dampness, where many rivers
flow into warm black swamps, the vampires have bred for centuries. Conditions
were ideal for their growth, and so through the ages they evolved into the
monsters we have encountered lately on Venus.
During some
comparatively recent visit to Mercury the grubs of these insects have found
their way abroad a vegetation-laden targo left standing near the edge of the
black swamps of Mercury. These grubs were thus transported to Venus and
underwent their natural metamorphosis here. Reaching adult stage, they have
found some place to hide and breed, and thus is explained the origin of the
vampires of Venus.
This was widely
read and discussed and was finally accepted as the means of the invasion of
peaceful, beautiful Venus by a horror that might well have originated in hell.
However, this did
not reveal the breeding grounds, or remove the nation-wide scourge of the
horrible winged vampires, so the mobilization of all the forces of the planet
continued.
As day followed
day the hordes of fighting Venus dwellers grew in the concentration camps. In
the targo of the Belas, Larner, brain-weary and body-racked as he was with
overwork, found a grain of happiness in being in the presence of Nern and his
beautiful, petite sister.
With Zorn, Larner
was supervising the construction of a big net of strongly woven wire mesh, in
which it was hoped to catch one of the vampires. It was decided to bait the
trap with a fat female lat.
Zorn, Larner and
the Belas fared forth from the concentration camp followed by a company of
soldiers carrying the big net. Tula with her own hand led the fat lat heifer.
His eyes were filled with commiseration for the poor animal.
Thousands of
soldiers and citizenry, in fighting array, watched the departure of the little
group.
In a glade the
trap was set and the net arranged to fall over the monster once it attacked the
calf. From a thicket, in utter darkness, Zorn and Larner and the two Belas
waited for the possible catch. The whole nation stood awaiting the order to
advance.
On the fourth
night the vigil was rewarded in a manner frightful to relate.
A clumsy flutter
of giant wings broke the stillness.
The four waiting
forms in the thicket rejoiced, believing the fat lat was about to be attacked.
Onward came the
approaching horror. The measured flap, flap of its armored wings drawing nearer
and nearer. Then, horror—horrors!
A feminine scream
rent the air. Cries loud and shrill arose above a hysterical feminine cry for
help.
The monster had
chosen Tula Bela for its prey!
Zorn exploded an
alarm bomb. A compressed air siren brought the army forward on the run. Giant
floodlights began to light up the scene. The blood of Larner and Nern froze.
The monster had
borne the girl to the ground. Its frightful lance and cupper was upraised to
strike. Larner was the nearest and the quickest to act. He grabbed for his
ray-gun, swung at his belt. It was gone! In horror he remembered he had left it
at the base. He seized a short knife and threw himself forward, rolling his
body between that of the girl and the descending lance and cupper.
As the lance
pierced his shoulder Larner, in one wild gesture of frenzy, drove his knife
through the soft, yielding flesh of the vampire's organ of suction.
Protected by no
bony structure the snout of the monster was amputated.
The terrible
creature had been disarmed of his most formidable weapon, but he continued to
fight. Larner felt the spikes on the monster's legs tear at his flesh.
"Don't kill
the thing," he shouted. "Bring on the net. For the love of God bring
on the net!" Then he lost consciousness.
It was daylight
when Larner, somewhat weakened from loss of blood, regained consciousness.
The beautiful
Tula Bela was leaning over him.
She whispered
comforting words to him in a language he did not fully understand. She
whispered happy exclamations in words he did not know the meaning of, but the
tone was unmistakably those of a sweetheart towards her lover.
Finally, in
answer to a true scientist's question in his eyes, she said in English:
"They caught
the thing alive. They await your order to advance."
"Let us be
on our way," said Larner, and he started to arise.
"You are
hardly strong enough," said Tula.
"Believe me,
I am all right," insisted Larner, and after several trials he got to his
feet. His constitution was naturally strong and his will was stronger, so he
fought back all feelings of weakness and soon announced himself ready to go
ahead with the project at hand. For speed was all important, and the young
professor found himself unable to remain inactive.
He rejoiced when
Zorn told him that the big insect that had attacked Tula Bela had been captured
alive and had been kept well nourished by lat's blood injected into its
stomach.
With Zorn Larner
went to inspect the hideous monstrosity and found it in leash and straining. It
was ready to be used to lead the way back to its breeding place.
Its wings
shackled, the lumbering insect floundered on its way straight north. Ponderously
and half blindly it crawled as the searchlights' glare was kept far enough in
advance to keep from blinding the monster.
True to instinct
it finally brought up at early dawn under a high cliff of smoky quartz. Here,
in the great crevices, the drove of diabolical vampires were hiding.
As the light
struck their dens, they attempted clumsily to take wing, but a interlacing
network of devastating disintegrating rays from the ray-guns shattered their
bodies to dust, which was borne away by the wind.
The next few
months were spent in combing the quartz crags of Venus for similar infested
areas, but only the one breeding nest was found. The scourge had been conquered
in its first and only stronghold.
So ended the
greatest reign of terror in the history of Venus.
Leslie Larner was
given a vote of thanks, and riches were showered upon him by the good people of
the sky's brightest star.
His modesty was
characteristic, and he insisted that his part in saving humanity on the planet
had been small.
Passage back to
earth was offered him, but Nern and Tula Bela urged him to say and live his
life on Venus. This he finally agreed to do.
"If I
returned," he said, "I would always be tempted to tell my experiences
while away, and there is not a jury in the world which would account me sane
after I had once spoken."
That the story of
Larner's adventure reached earth dwellers at all is due to the fact that Nern
Bela on a subsequent visit to the earth narrated it to a Colorado quartz miner.
This miner, a bronzed and bearded prospector for gold, stumbled on the targo in
a mountain fastness, and there was nought to do but make him welcome and pledge
him to secrecy.
The miner
surveyed the crystal targo in rapt wonderment and said: "And to think I am
the only earth man who ever viewed such a craft!"
"No,"
answered Nern Bela, "there is one other." And then the stirring story
of Leslie Larner's life on Venus was told.
SAFE FLYING IN FOGS
The outstanding
development in aviation recently, and one of the most significant so far in
aviation history was the "blind" flight of Lieut. James H. Doolittle,
daredevil of the Army Air Corps, at Mitchel Field, L. I., which led Harry P.
Guggenheim, President of the Daniel Guggenheim Fund for the Promotion of
Aeronautics, Inc. to announce that the problem of fog-flying, one of aviation's
greatest bugbears, had been solved at last.
There has been
"blind flying" done in the past but never before in the history of
aviation has any pilot taken off, circled, crossed, re-crossed the field, then
landed only a short distance away from his starting point while flying under
conditions resembling the densest fog, as Lieut. "Jimmy" Doolittle
has done, in his Wright-motored "Husky" training-plane. It was
something uncanny to contemplate.
The "dense
fog" was produced artificially by the simple device of making the cabin of
the plane entirely light-proof. Once seated inside, the flyer, with his
co-pilot, Lieut. Benjamin Kelsey, also of Mitchel Field, were completely shut
off from any view of the world outside. All they had to depend on were three
new flying instruments, developed during the past year in experiments conducted
over the full-flight laboratory established by the Fund at Mitchel Field.
The chief factors
contributing to the solution of the problem of blind flying consist of a new
application of the visual radio beacon, the development of an improved
instrument for indicating the longitudinal and lateral position of an airplane,
a new directional gyroscope, and a sensitive barometric altimeter, so delicate
as to measure the altitude of an airplane within a few feet of the ground.
Thus, instead of
relying on the natural horizon for stability, Lieut. Doolittle uses an
"artificial horizon" on the small instrument which indicates
longitudinal and lateral position in relation to the ground at all time. He was
able to locate the landing field by means of the direction-finding
long-distance radio beacon. In addition, another smaller radio beacon had been
installed, casting a beam fifteen to twenty miles in either direction, which
governs the immediate approach to the field.
To locate the
landing field the pilot watches two vibrating reeds, tuned to the radio beacon,
on a virtual radio receiver on his instrument board. If he turns to the right
or left of his course the right or left reed, respectively, begins doing a sort
of St. Vitus dance. If the reeds are in equilibrium the pilot knows it is clear
sailing straight to his field.
The sensitive
altimeter showed Lieut. Doolittle his altitude and made it possible for him to
calculate his landing to a distance of within a few feet from the ground.
Probably the
strangest device of all that Lieut. Doolittle has been called upon to test in
Mr. Guggenheim's war against fog is a sort of heat cannon that goes forth to
combat like a fire-breathing dragon of old. Like the enemies of the dragon, the
fog is supposed to curl up and die before the scorching breath of the "hot
air artillery" although the fundamental principle behind the device is a
great deal more scientific than such an explanation sounds. It is, in brief,
based on the known fact that fog forms only in a very narrow temperature zone
which lies between the saturation and precipitation points of the atmosphere.
If the air grows a little colder the fog turns into rain and falls; if it is
warmed very slightly the mist disappears and the air is once more normally
clear, although its humidity is very close to the maximum.
