The Space Trilogy (16 page)

'Once we were sure that our suits could withstand the conditions in the Night Land, we made longer trips, though we were never away from the ship for more than a couple of hours. We hadn't reached the mountains yet—they were just out of range. I used to spend a good deal of time examining them through the electronic telescope in the ship—there was enough light to make this possible.

'And one day, I saw something moving. I was so astonished that for a moment I sat frozen at the telescope, goggling foolishly through the eye-piece. Then I regained enough presence of mind to switch on the camera.

'You must have seen the film. It's not very good, of course, because the light was so weak. But it shows the mountain wall with a sort of landslide in the foreground—and there's something large and white scrabbling round among the rocks. When I saw it first it looked like a ghost and I don't mind saying that it scared me. Then the thrill of discovery banished every other feeling and I concentrated on observing as much as I could.

'It wasn't a great deal, but I got the general impression of a roughly spherical body with at least four legs. Then it vanished, and though I waited for half an hour it never reappeared.

'Of course we dropped everything else and had a council of war. It was lucky for me that I'd taken the film, as otherwise everyone would have accused me of dreaming. We all agreed we must try and get near the creature: the only question was whether it was dangerous.

'We had no weapons of any kind, but the ship carried a flare pistol which was intended for signalling. If it did nothing else, this should frighten any beast that attacked us. I carried the pistol, and my two companions—Borrell, the navigator, and Glynne, the radio operator—had a couple of stout bars. We also carried cameras and lighting equipment in the hope of getting some really good pictures. We felt that three was about the right number for the expedition: fewer might not be safe and—well, if the thing was
really
dangerous, sending the whole crew would only make matters worse.

'It was five miles to the mountains, and it took us about an hour to reach them. The ship checked our course over the radio and we had an observer at the telescope, keeping a search in the neighbourhood so that we'd have some warning if the creature turned up. I don't think we felt in any danger: we were all much too excited for that. And it was difficult to see what harm any animal could do to us inside the armour of our space-suits—as long as the helmets didn't get cracked. The low gravity, and the extra strength that it gave us, added to our confidence.

'At last we reached the rock slide—and made a peculiar discovery. Something had been collecting stones and smashing them up: there were piles of broken fragments lying around. It was difficult to see what this meant, unless the creature we were seeking actually found its food among the rocks.

'I collected a few samples for analysis while Glynne photographed our discovery and reported to the ship. Then we started to hunt around, keeping close together in case of trouble. The rock slide was about a mile across: it seemed that the whole face of the mountain had crumbled and slid downwards. We wondered what could have caused this, in the absence of any weather. Since there was no erosion, we couldn't guess how long ago the slip had occurred. It might have been a million years old—or a billion.

'Imagine us, then, scrambling across that jumble of broken rocks, with Earth and Venus hanging overhead like brilliant beacons, and the lights of our ship burning reassuringly down on the horizon. By now I had practically decided that our quarry must be some kind of rock-eater, if only because there seemed no other kind of food on this desolate planet. I wished I knew enough about minerals to determine what substance this was.

Then Glynne's excited shout rang in my earphones.

"'There it is!" he yelled. "By that cliff over there!"

'We just stood and stared, and I had my first good look at a Mercurian. It was more like a giant spider than anything else—or perhaps one of those crabs with long, spindly legs. Its body was a sphere about a yard across, and was a silvery white. At first we thought it had four legs, but later we discovered that there were actually eight—a reserve set being carried tucked up close to the body. They were brought into action when the incredible cold of the rocks began to creep too far up the thick layers of insulating horn which formed its feet or hooves. When the Mercurian got cold feet, it switched to another pair!

'It also had two handling limbs, which at the moment were busily engaged in searching among the rocks. They ended in elaborate, horny claws or pincers which looked as if they could be dangerous in a fight. There was no real head, but only a tiny bulge on the top of the spherical body. Later we discovered that this housed two large eyes, for use in the dim starlight of the Night Land, and two small ones for excursions into the more brilliantly illuminated Twilight Zone—the sensitive large eyes then being kept tightly shut.

'We watched, quite fascinated, while the ungainly creature scuttled among the rocks, pausing now and again to seize a specimen and smash it to powder with those efficient-looking claws. Then something that might have been a tongue would flash out, too swiftly for the eye to follow, and the powder would be gobbled up.

'"What do you think it's after?" asked Borrell. "That rock seems pretty soft. I wonder if it's some kind of chalk?"

'"Hardly," I replied. "It's the wrong colour—and chalk's only formed at the bottom of seas, anyway. There's never been free water on Mercury."

'"Shall we see how close we can get? " said Glynne. "I can't take a good photo from here. It's an ugly-looking beast, but I don't think it can do us any harm. It'll probably run a mile as soon as it sees us."

'I gripped the flare pistol more firmly and said: "O.K.—let's go. But move slowly, and stop as soon as it spots us."

'We were within a hundred feet before the creature showed any signs of interest in us. Then it pivoted on its stalk-like legs and I could see its great eyes looking at us in the faint moon-glow of Venus. Glynne said, "Shall I use the flash? I can't take a good picture in this light."

'I hesitated, then told him to go ahead. The creature gave a start as the brief explosion of light splashed over the landscape, and I heard Glynne's sigh of relief. "That's
one
picture in the bag, anyway! Wonder if I can get a close-up? "

'"No," I ordered, "that would certainly scare it—or annoy it, which might be worse. I don't like the look of those claws. Let's try and prove that we're friends. You stay here and I'll go forward. Then it won't think we're ganging up on it."

"Well, I still think the idea was good—but I didn't know much about the habits of Mercurians in those days. As I walked slowly forward the creature seemed to stiffen, like a dog over a bone—and for the same reason, I guessed. It stretched itself up to its full height, which was nearly eight feet, and then began to sway back and forth slightly, looking very much like a captive balloon in a breeze.

"'I should come back!" advised Borrell. "It's annoyed. Better not take any chances."

'"I don't intend to," I replied. "It's not easy to walk backwards in a space-suit, but I'm going to try it now."

'I'd retreated a few yards when, without moving from its position, the creature suddenly whipped out one of its arms and grabbed a stone. The motion was so human that I knew what was coming and instinctively covered my visor with my arm. A moment later something struck the lower part of my suit with a terrific crash. It didn't hurt me, but the whole carapace vibrated for a moment like a gong. For an anxious few seconds I held my breath, waiting for the fatal hiss of air. But the suit held, though I could see a deep dent on the left thigh. The next time I might not be so lucky, so I decided to use my "weapon" as a distraction.

'The brilliant white flare floated slowly up towards the stars, flooding the landscape with harsh light and putting distant Venus to shame. And then something happened that we weren't to understand until much later. I'd noticed a pair of bulges on either side of the Mercurian's body, and as we watched they opened up like the wing-cases of a beetle. Two wide, black wings unfurled—
wings
, on this almost airless world! I was so astonished that for a moment I was too surprised to continue my retreat. Then the flare slowly burned itself out, and as it guttered to extinction the velvet wings folded themselves and were tucked back into their cases.

'The creature made no attempt to follow, and we met no others on this occasion. As you can guess, we were sorely puzzled, and our colleagues back in the ship could hardly credit their ears when we told them what had happened. Now that we know the answer, of course, it seems simple enough. It always does…

'Those weren't really wings that we'd watch unfold, though ages ago, when Mercury had an atmosphere, they had been. The creature I'd discovered was one of the most marvellous examples of adaptation known in the Solar System. Its normal home is the Twilight Zone, but because the minerals it feeds on have been exhausted there it has to go foraging far into the Night Land. Its whole body has evolved to resist that incredible cold: that's the reason why it's silvery white, because this colour radiates the least amount of heat. Even so, it can't stay in the Night Land indefinitely: it has to return to the Twilight Zone at intervals, just as on our own world, a whale has to come up for air. When it sees the Sun again, it spreads those black wings, which are really heat absorbers. I suppose my flare must have triggered off this reaction—or maybe even the small amount of heat given off by it was worth grabbing.

'The search for food must be desperate for Nature to have taken such drastic steps. The Mercurians aren't really vicious beasts, but they have to fight among themselves for survival. Since the hard casing of the body is almost invulnerable, they go for the legs. A crippled Night-Lander is doomed, because he can't reach the Twilight Zone again before his stores of heat are exhausted. So they've learned to throw stones at each other's legs with great accuracy. My space-suit must have puzzled the specimen I met—but it did its best to cripple me. As I soon discovered, it succeeded rather too well.

'We still don't know much about these creatures, despite the efforts that have been made to study them. And I've got a theory I'd like to see investigated. It seems to me that, just as some of the Mercurians have evolved so that they can forage into the cold of the Night Land, there may be another variety that's gone into the burning Day Side. I wonder what
they'll
be like?'

The Commander stopped talking: I got the impression that he didn't really want to continue. But our waiting silence was too much for him, and he carried on.

'We were walking back slowly to the ship, still arguing about the creature we'd met, when suddenly I realized that something had gone wrong. My feet were getting cold—very cold. The heat was ebbing out of my spacesuit, sucked away by the frozen rocks beneath me.

'I knew at once what had happened. The blow my suit had received had broken the leg heater circuits—and there was nothing that could be done about it until I got back to the ship. And I had four miles still ahead of me…

'I told the others what had happened and we put on all the speed we could. Every time my feet touched the ground I could feel the appalling chill striking deeper. After a while all sensation was lost: that at least was something to be thankful for. My legs were just wooden stumps with no feeling at all, and I was still two miles from the ship when I couldn't move them any more. The joints of the suit were freezing solid…

'After that my companions had to carry me, and I must have lost consciousness for a while. I revived once while we were still some way from the end of that journey, and for a moment I thought I must be delirious. For the land all around me was ablaze with light: brilliant-coloured streamers were flickering across the sky: overhead, waves of crimson fire were marching beneath the stars. In my dazed state, it was some time before I realized what had happened. The Aurora, which is far more brilliant on Mercury than on Earth, had suddenly decided to switch on one of its displays. It was ironic, though at the time I could scarcely appreciate it. For although the land all around me seemed to be burning, I was swiftly freezing to death.

'Well, we made it somehow, though I don't remember ever entering the ship. When I came back to consciousness, we were on the way back to Earth. But my legs were still on Mercury.'

No one said anything for a long time. Then the pilot glanced at his chronometer and exclaimed: 'Wow! I should have made my course check ten minutes ago!' That broke the suspense, and our imaginations came rushing back from Mercury.

For the next few minutes the pilot was busy with the ship's position-finding gear. The first space-navigators only had the stars to guide them, but now there were all sorts of radio and radar aids. One only bothered about the rather tedious astronomical methods when one was a long way from home, out of range of the Earth stations.

I was watching the pilot's fingers flying across the calculator keyboard, envying his effortless skill, when suddenly he froze over his desk. Then, very carefully, he pecked at the keys and set up his calculations again. An answer came up on the register—and I knew that something was horribly wrong. For a moment the pilot stared at his figures as if unable to believe them. Then he loosened himself from the straps holding him to his seat, and moved swiftly over to the nearest observation port.